Sister of Night
by Asrai
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
1. Prologue

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: A big, fat thank you to Holly and Kat who were willing to beta-read this fic for me!=)  
  
Sister of Night  
  
Prologue  
  
It's been 24 hours now.  
  
Twenty-four hours ago I sat with Thomas in his apartment and he made breakfast for me. I know, two o'clock in the afternoon isn't exactly breakfast time but you just don't get me out of bed earlier. He'd made fresh orange juice and I had to drink it, as always, and I moaned and bitched about it, as always. But you wanna know a secret? Breakfast just isn't the same without him forcing that damn stuff down my throat.  
  
Anyway. I'll never have to drink it again and that thought almost makes me cry.  
  
But me, I don't cry, haven't since I was a kid. I don't plan on starting now. God, this bus is uncomfortable.  
  
I wiggle in my seat and my arm accidentally brushes against the window. Ouch. Can this slayer healing just kick in already? My arms are full of cuts and burns; I'm a walking bruise and it hurts like hell. Big ouch. If he'd be there, he'd have bandaged me up by now, tucked me into bed despite my protests and given me some painkillers. But he isn't; he's-  
  
I don't think I'm ready to use the d-word yet. It's quite funny, isn't it; after that kind of night you'd think I'd learn my lesson and stay away from the whole saving the world business. No more demons, no more vamps, just me trying to survive without the person who's been my family for the last five years.  
  
But no, instead of escaping the hell I've lived in, I'm heading straight for another one, and quite literally to boot. Finally, I've reached my destination as the bus passes a big sign:  
  
Welcome To Sunnydale 


	2. 01 A Better Place

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: A big, fat thank you to Holly and Kat who were willing to beta-read this fic for me!=)  
  
Chapter 01 - A Better Place  
  
*"Get out, you little shit! I never want to see your ugly face again!"  
  
Buffy ducked to avoid her mother's fist, fell to the ground and scrambled hastily to her feet. Her mother was stoned, again, and she hadn't been really pleased when she'd found out that Buffy had pilfered the rest of her monthly money to buy food.  
  
"Come on, get out! And don't come back!"  
  
Buffy ran to the door, grabbed her old, too small jacket and was out of the apartment before her mother could follow her. She heard her raging inside, screaming and shouting about thieves and money and brats who were good for nothing. She'd gotten used to her mother's tantrums a long time ago but today it had been worse than normal. It looked like she had to spend the night outside again.  
  
The door behind her opened and she began to skip down the stairs. Reaching the front door and pushing it quickly open, she didn't see the man until she ran into him, stumbled and fell to the ground for the second time in five minutes.  
  
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she called out, annoyed.  
  
It was a young man, Buffy saw, perhaps twenty years old. He was relatively tall, lean and had dark brown, curly hair.  
  
"Sorry. but. wait a moment." He sounded strange and she decided that he was not from LA. Now he took a picture out of his jacket, looked at it and then at her.  
  
"Are you Buffy?"*  
  
~~~  
  
God, how small can this stupid Sunnydale be? I mean, I know it isn't LA, but this is ridiculous.  
  
Anyway, now that I've found a place to crash that isn't too expensive, I'm free to explore my new and exciting working place- SunnyD's graveyards. Let's see how good the vamps on the hellmouth really are. But I put my stakes and knives on the bottom of my bag and so I turn the bag upside down and all my stuff- everything I possess now- falls into a heap on the bed.  
  
I didn't take the time to pack all my clothes; didn't really notice what I packed either. I realize with a pang that I have two of Thomas' tee shirts but forgot my red leather pants. Damn. I grab two stakes and small knife- muggers aren't really impressed by pointy, wooden sticks- and leave the ratty excuse that tries to pass itself for a motel room.  
  
A cemetery isn't hard to find and I begin to patrol between the headstones. I can hear some cars in the distance, but other than that, it's completely quiet. Strange. It's strange to patrol alone, too. He always insisted on going with me- it's against the rules and he couldn't really help me when I fought, but still- I knew that he cared. He cared so much it-  
  
K-word's a bad word, too. Are there ever going to be any vampires here? I slowly breathe in and out and try to concentrate. I'm not good at sensing the undead; normally they come to me- I don't have to find them. But although I still hurt all over, I'm itching for a good fight. I gotta prove that I can still kick ass without getting somebody killed.  
  
There you are. I run into the direction of the vampire and the headstones and crypts fly by. I take a stake out of my pocket and arrive just in time as a new vampire tries to leave his grave. He's quite clumsy and so I grab his hand and help him to his feet. Staking him is no fun if he doesn't know who sends him back to hell.  
  
He's in vamp face and looks at me with an incredibly dumb expression- I almost pity him. Almost.  
  
"Hi," I say and backhand him across the face, "I'm Buffy."  
  
I plunge the stake into his heart and he turns to dust.  
  
"Nice to meet you."  
  
Well, that was easy. Perhaps my special Welcome-to-SunnyD-present. Despite that, I think I'll call it a night- my legs hurt from the short run and the knuckles of my hand burn. It's ten p.m.; too late to say hi to the watcher guy of the other slayer- what was her name again? Fate or something like that. Thomas showed me a picture of her, after I was called. Thought she was dead until the Council called and let him know that she'd survived her stunt with a master vampire.  
  
So I put the big meeting on my schedule for tomorrow- or the day after that, whatever- and leave the cemetery. It doesn't look like there are many places in SunnyD to have fun, but there has to be some clubs, right? I see a group of youths heading towards a small alley and follow them in a distance. They're dressed to party and bingo- they enter some kind of warehouse. 'The Bronze'. Okay.  
  
In comparison to LA this here is small- but it'll have to do. There's a live band playing, not my kind of music- but they're cute, so who cares. It's full and I push my way through the crowd to the bar.  
  
"A coke," I order and the barkeeper's smile falters slightly as he notices my scraped and bloody knuckles. If you knew what's underneath my shirt, buddy. luckily they left my face unharmed. Saved that one up for the end that never came. Plopping down on a couch, I sip on my coke and try to relax. Yesterday at his time I'd just entered their lair and I can't help but realize how unreal this whole scenario is. Look at me, sitting here all- alone in SunnyD, trying to make a new life. I've never left LA before. I would have, next summer, after graduation. To England, land of lots of tea, rain and stuffy accents.  
  
My drink's empty, the band plays an even slower song and I know that it's time to leave. I'm not in the mood for slow, cuddly dancing with a strange guy, so I stand up- and see her. The other slayer.  
  
She's laughing and I almost wouldn't have recognized her because she doesn't look like the girl in the picture I saw at all. That girl was pale, had big eyes that just screamed 'Love me' and looked overall like she'd throw up every moment. No wonder, it was taken shortly after her calling and Thomas told me she didn't know about the slayer deal before. Poor, lost, little girl. But now, two years later, she' s grown up and stands there with her friends and looks so happy that I feel a short burst of jealousy. A guy has his arms around her waist and whispers something in her ear. Boyfriend? Another, red-haired girl is standing next to them and stars at the stage. A picture perfect, Kodak moment.  
  
I snort and turn around to leave. 


	3. 02 Here

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 02 - Here  
  
*"Are you Buffy?"  
  
Buffy looked up from her lunch and stared at the secretary who was standing before her, surprised.  
  
"Yeah?" She tried to remember if she'd done anything to piss off one of her teachers in the last weeks that would justify her being dragged to the director, but came up with nothing. She'd been an exemplary student. Well, almost.  
  
"Your cousin is here to see you. He says it's important. Would you come with me?"  
  
"My. what?" she asked, but the other woman had already turned around to leave the cafeteria; she had no other choice other than to follow her. Standing in the corridor was the person she wanted to see the least. The secretary smiled at him and left them alone.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she hissed, annoyed, "didn't I tell you to stay the hell away from me?"  
  
Thomas, the guy she'd bumped into at the door a week earlier, smiled at her. "I seem to remember something along the lines of "I'll kill you if you ever come near me again", yes. But as my presence is very important for your training I think I can disobey your. orders. I didn't find you at home, so I came to your school."  
  
Buffy crossed her arms. "So. and what do you want now? I don't believe your mumbo-jumbo, no matter what you say. Vampires. monsters. you watched one Dracula movie too many. Or two."  
  
"No, no, I won't try to convince you with words." he smiled even wider and she felt the sudden urge to punch him.  
  
"I thought I'd show you."*  
  
~~~  
  
Something is ringing and I groan and turn around. Do I have school today, is there something big up or what's the deal with the ringing? I manage to open one eye and shut it again immediately. It's far too bright in here. Why doesn't he throw me out of bed like he usually does?  
  
That thought wakes me up after all.  
  
I grab the clock on the nightstand and stare at it. Eleven a.m.. It's in the middle of the night, what the hell was I thinking when I set the alarm? Ah, yes, now my brain starts working. It's Monday and I decided to introduce myself to SunnyD's slaying gang. After a shower.  
  
The cold spray makes me completely awake and I feel human again as I dress. My wounds have healed, just a few scars here and there; but they'll disappear in a few weeks, I think. They always do.  
  
My gaze sweeps across the room as I lock the door; it's a "bloody" mess. I'm not exactly the clean up fanatic, but hey, I always find what I need. I got to find a job if I don't want to go begging to keep this palace. My money's almost gone. Waitressing or something like that.  
  
I looked up the high school yesterday; I know that the watcher is the librarian there, so he can always be near his slayer. How thoughtful. The school's quiet now; the lunch break hasn't begun yet and I'm glad about that. I don't want to run into a bunch of high school kids. Hmm. It smells like high school. No kidding, it really does. Like chalk and hair spray, disinfection stuff and crappy food. The school year's just begun- I'd be a senior now. Scratch that, I was a senior, just three days ago. I certainly won't miss going to school, I never was one for the schoolish stuff. Perhaps I'll look back in twenty years and regret that I haven't got a high school diploma. But hey, odds are that I'll be dead by then, so let's forget about graduation.  
  
Where is that damn library? Can't be that hard to find. there it is. I push one of the double doors open and take a peek before I gingerly enter. There's a big desk with lots of books on it, bookshelves around it, a stair that leads up to, who would have guessed, more books. On one side there's something like a reception and there's a door, ajar. Interesting, I've never been to the library in my old school. There was quite a gang fight in there a couple of years ago and they're still renovating the room.  
  
I step closer to the big table and look at a book. A demon grins back at me, with horns, slimy-looking skin and all that. Bingo. I flip open another book, about witchcraft, and snap my gum. Seems to be a popular one, Thomas had it, too.  
  
"C-can I help you?"  
  
I whirl around and come to face with a forty-something old man who's cleaning his glasses and musters me with a slightly panicked look.  
  
"Yeah," I smile and lean against the table, arms crossed. "Are you Rupert Giles?"  
  
He nods. "Yes, that would b-be me. Are, are you a new student?"  
  
He's uncomfortable, I can tell. And what's it with the stuttering? Thomas told me some stuff about him, the brave watcher with the dark past. This guy looks like he couldn't harm a fly. Ripper, my butt.  
  
"No."  
  
He obviously waits for an elaboration and I decide to let him squirm a little, just for fun. But at the same time I ask myself. does he know about me? Slay-girl number two? I mean, he knows that FateFaithWhatever died. Right?  
  
I turn around and touch one of the books and he reacts instantly.  
  
"These books are v-very old, ancient myths and legends-"  
  
"No need to pretend," I drawl. He's kind of cute when he's nervous like that- in a grandfathery kind of way. "I know about the whole deal. May I introduce myself." I bow ironically.  
  
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer."  
  
Dramatic pause as he almost drops his glasses and I smile. Somehow I have the feeling that this will be fun.  
  
"W-w-what?"  
  
Hilarious. I wish I could take a picture of his face right now.  
  
"Buffy," I repeat, "the Vampire Slayer. You know, the Chosen One? With the strength and the skill blablabla?"  
  
"How is that possible?" he asks and comes closer.  
  
I shrug. "Go ask the PTB. It sure as hell wasn't my idea to be superwoman, although it has its perks. I was called when your slayer drowned and died for a few moments- remember that?"  
  
Watcher guy cleans his glasses again. I swear, he'll rub a hole right through them. "I see." he says, "Very interesting. apparently the death of Faith's body was enough to call a new slayer. despite her surviving later on. And why are you here now? Is there a problem?"  
  
Yes. You see, I don't have a watcher anymore, I don't have a place to stay, I don't know where else I could go, did I mention that I'm broke?  
  
"No," and thank God, my voice sounds indifferent. Practice paid off after all. "Just though I'd drop by, see how things are on the hellmouth. There's enough action for two Chosen Ones, right?"  
  
"Y-yes. do you have a watcher?"  
  
"No." Drop it, Watch-guy, this is a topic I so don't need. My luck, the lunch bell rings in this moment and he hastily scurries to the books and closes them before an innocent student can come in and find the "ancient myths and legends". Indeed, the doors open and a group of youths come in- the slayer and her friends I saw two nights ago, plus another, unfamiliar guy.  
  
"Giles," she calls out, "can I have the night off-" and stops abruptly as she sees me. Unlike at the Bronze, when I was still weakened, now I can sense her- oh, she's got power, I can tell. It's almost as if she were a vamp. there's this low tingle that starts in your stomach and spreads all over your body. but she doesn't feel dead- no, her energy is living, breathing, pulsating- a slayer, like me.  
  
"Hello, sis'." 


	4. 03 The Last One Alive

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 03 - The Last One Alive  
  
*Buffy knocked on the door and stepped back into the shadows of the staircase. A moment later the door was opened and Thomas smiled at her. "Hey."  
  
"Hi." She quickly entered the apartment and sat down on his couch. It was huge, as was the rest of his "flat", and everything was clean. It even smelled nice. She lowered her head and played with the hem of her shirt.  
  
"So, what's up today?" she asked flippantly.  
  
Her watcher shut the door and approached her. "You'll like it. today you have your first lesson in martial arts."  
  
Normally Buffy would have squealed in delight; she'd been looking to learning how to fight for weeks. It was the only thing that had made her learn the rules of slaying, the history of vampires, yadayadayada. but now she stayed silent. Thomas raised his eyebrows and sat down next to her.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, but Buffy didn't answer. He touched her arm and she flinched back as if he'd hit her. Now getting a good look at her face, he couldn't suppress a surprised gasp.  
  
"Buffy? Who did this to you?"  
  
The right half of her face was swollen and bruised in an angry red, and across her forehead was a deep cut that had apparently stopped bleeding just recently.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
She swallowed and whispered hoarsely, "It's not important. can we- can we just start training, please?"  
  
She couldn't, wouldn't tell him; nor about her mother having a new boyfriend who was drunk most of the time, nor about his tantrums and the beatings he gave her; nor about her mother watching passively, high on drugs, giggling all the time. No, she couldn't, wouldn't ever tell him.*  
  
~~~  
  
"Sis'?" Faith asks and her friends take a step forward, as if they want to protect her. Don't worry, I won't hurt her.  
  
"Faith, th-this is Buffy," watcher-guy says, "It appears that she is a slayer."  
  
"A slayer?" the dark-haired guy, probably boyfriend, asks, "Good joke, G- man, we all know that there's only one in every generation, in all the world. I paid attention in Slayer Lore 101. And our Faith here is still alive and kicking as far as I can see- what do you think, Will?"  
  
The red-haired girl mumbles a yes. Will? Pretty strange name for a girl. Okay, I see, Buffy isn't really common either.  
  
"Yes, but Faith died at the hands of the master, albeit just for a few seconds. It was enough for a new slayer to be called."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Guess she's speechless now. But I sense, somehow, that she doesn't quite believe that, and it bugs me. My left hand creeps under my shirt and touches the knife I hide there. The blade is a little warm from the contact with my skin and it reassures me. Save for a stake, a knife is the best weapon you can get. Simple, sharp, quick; deadly. I draw it and it gleams silvery in the light. Beautiful.  
  
"Need a demonstration?" Before anybody can react, I throw the knife in direction of the group. The girl, Will, jumps hastily aside and the weapon makes a hissing sound as it embeds itself an inch next to Faith's face in the wall. Yay me.  
  
"See?"  
  
Slayer's smile is frosty as she crosses her arms. "And what are you doing here now, in Sunnydale?"  
  
Could they stop asking me that? "I was just, you know, traveling around and I thought I'd visit old SunnyD. it's the must-see for every slayer, isn't it?"  
  
She snorts. "Right."  
  
"And," I continue, "I wanted to see you. You're my predecessor, and it's a first that two Chosen Ones meet each other- we're writing history right now."  
  
My stomach growls and reminds me that I haven't eaten anything since yesterday, and I just had a hamburger then. Time to eat real food. hm. perhaps a take out pizza. Or Chinese? Noodles wouldn't be bad. With chicken.  
  
"You in for a round of slaying tonight?" I ask and she slowly nods. She doesn't want to spend the night in a creepy graveyard with an equally creepy girl she doesn't know. Poor girl, I blew her night off.  
  
"Restfield Cemetery, nine o'clock."  
  
Restfield? Where's that?  
  
"No prob. See ya, then."  
  
I smirk one last time at the stunned group, take my knife out of the wall and leave the library, playing with the blade and chewing happily on my bubble gum. Mission accomplished.  
  
~~~  
  
The rest of the day seems to be endless. After a lunch consisting indeed of Chinese take out, the motel room is suddenly too small for me. So I wander aimlessly around in SunnyD, enjoying the good old Californian sun and contemplating what to do with the rest of my life.  
  
I have nobody in the world now; Thomas is- well, he's dead. There, the word's out.  
  
Thomas is dead.  
  
Dead, as in the sense of gone, forever- I made sure of that, and damn hard it was. My watcher, my best friend, my family, the only person on this planet who gave a fuck about me. Everyone else saw my leather pants, my make up and the unfriendly face, went along and forgot about me. My not- existing dad, my mother, if you can call that a mother, my teachers, my so- called friends. Everyone just sees the strong Buffy, the one who's fighting with the teachers at day and with the vampires at night, who sometimes steals her lunch in the supermarket, who almost gets kicked out of school every week.  
  
Yeah, that's me.  
  
And now? There'll be nobody to wipe the blood off my face, to lecture me about the absolute wrongness of stealing, nobody to teach me at least a little schoolish stuff. 'Cause he's gone.  
  
That's major problem number one; number two has another, more mundane name: money. I don't have much anymore- it was hardly enough to pay my combined breakfast/lunch/dinner today. My room's paid for until next Saturday- but what happens then? I need cash, and fast. I don't want to starve and I eat a lot. I need clothes because I forgot most of them and batteries for my discman wouldn't hurt either. Stealing is out of the question now. For once, I want him to be proud of me.  
  
Tomorrow. I'll deal with all this stuff tomorrow. I'll find a job, work my butt off for a month or two, hop on a bus and see the rest of this wonderful country. I don't know why I came to Sunnydale in the first place- it's not as if two slayers are needed here. But I was so panicked then, so lonely and scared, though I don't want to admit that now. I knew that this Faith girl was a slayer; she's my sister in a way, the closest thing to a relative I have. I thought that she would be like me, that slaying was her life- but it's not. I have seen her only twice, but I can tell that she's not like me. She has friends. She has nights off.  
  
How can you have a night off from your calling?  
  
Okay, so there are nights when I don't patrol; sometimes I'm just so tired that I drop into bed and don't wake up until the next day; or my mother would remember me and force me to stay in the apartment; or the time after I cleaned out a nest and was too injured to even stand up. I never skip slaying for a party.  
  
Over my brooding, the day has passed and the night begins. Finally. I'm in some park near the high school- where is that Restfield Cemetery? I rise from the grass and look around for some people to ask. Strangely there are almost none- it's not like it's late or anything, just dark. Perhaps they know, somewhere deep down, that it can be very, very dangerous to sit around in a park on the hellmouth after nightfall, and stay safely behind the thresholds of their houses.  
  
Or they just ignore their instincts, like the man that's approaching me.  
  
"Hey!" I call out and I can see on his face that he heard me, although he ignores me and walks on. Frightened, is he?  
  
"Hey!" I yell again and he stops.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you tell me the way to Restfield Cemetery?"  
  
His look is a surprised one; he clearly hasn't expected that kind of question. He describes the way to me and like an afterthought, he adds, "But if I were you, I wouldn't go there now. Wait until tomorrow."  
  
Ah. Not so clueless after all.  
  
"Why? Is it dangerous there?"  
  
He hesitates. Come on, you know it is.  
  
"No. No, there's nothing here- just wait until tomorrow."  
  
He turns around and almost runs from me, without another word. I think I scared him. Wasn't my intention, really. Following his description I glance at my watch and see that it's already past nine. Crap. I begin to run, but a block before the graveyard I stop, bind my tousled hair into a messy ponytail and slender down the street. I don't want to wake the suspicion that I care if I'm late or not. So not cool. The question is, did she wait or not?  
  
She did.  
  
Inwardly I breath out in relief, outwardly I grin and call out, "Hey, sis'!"  
  
I can see her rolling her eyes, I swear.  
  
"You're late."  
  
Shrugging, I take out a little silver cross from the pocket on my pants and clasp it around my neck. It's real silver and that's why I don't always wear it. With my record it's a miracle that it's not broken or melted or destroyed otherwise yet.  
  
"Lost track of time. You ready for a little action?"  
  
She snorts. "As I'll ever be."  
  
We enter the dark cemetery together and I can feel her power again, radiating off her in little waves. Somehow it reassures me because I know I have the same power; but it makes me nervous, too, because- because it's not natural that I can sense her. I can do that only with vamps, not even with other demons. Shouldn't it be wrong that a slayer feels similar to a vampire?  
  
"Why do you call me that way?"  
  
"What?"  
  
For a moment I have no idea what she's talking about but then it dawns on me, "Oh. You mean the sis thingy?"  
  
Faith nods and pushes away a strand of hair from her face. I can now see that she wears lipstick and earrings that are too nice for a date with the local vampires. Apparently she's resolved to have her "night off" after all. "Yeah. Is it normal to call strangers that way where you come from?"  
  
My laughter rings through the night. "No. But slayers are sisters, kind of, so."  
  
"Ah." She's quiet for a moment, then, "Was it strange for you? Being called, I mean?"  
  
"Hell, yes. It's irritating if you suddenly break all the doorknobs around you. Expensive, too. But you probably mean the big surprise when I found out that the supernatural doesn't just exist in the X-Files. That happened a few years earlier."  
  
"You knew about vampires before you were a slayer?" She sounds surprised and I'm reminded that the Council only found her when she was called. Right, the frightened girl in the picture.  
  
"Yes. I was trained since I was twelve."  
  
I sound evasive; don't want Faith to dig deeper. I don't want to trade anecdotes about my training. That part of my life sucked and it's over. Really over. But I can see that she's far from satisfied so I quickly as her, "Was it a shock for you? The Chosen One deal?"  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
Faith frowns slightly; the memories don't seem to be pleasant.  
  
"I lived in Boston, with my parents, and one day these British guys knocked on my door and asked David- that's my little brother- if I was home. Well, I didn't take it very well and I refused to do anything. Finally they told my parents about my new job; it was kind of necessary because we had to move to Sunnydale. Hellmouthy activities."  
  
"And now? What's the job for you now?"  
  
She used the wrong word, my sister did. Being the slayer is never, ever a job. Think that and you're as good as dead.  
  
"It's a part of me."  
  
That's better; she's on the right way.  
  
But now I can sense another power, a small one, not far away from here. Smiling, I grab form my stake hidden under my jacket.  
  
"Come on."  
  
Two rows further there's a fresh grave and I don't even glance at the headstone to catch the name of the not-so-dead person that's just left his grave. If you know that you staked Peter Whatever who left a mourning wife behind you might feel a little guilty; it doesn't matter that the beloved husband is a soulless monster now. It's better if they stay nameless.  
  
Faith advances and punches him in the face. He growls and lunges at her, specifically at her neck, but she avoids his fangs in one quick move, turns around, produces a stake out of her glittery bag and rams it into his back. I can see his greedy, not understanding eyes flash yellow for one last time before he turns to dust.  
  
Faith:1, Buffy:0.  
  
"Wow. That was neat."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
We pick up our old course again.  
  
"You parents don't have a problem when you hang out in graveyards?" I can't contain my curiosity. I've read about other slayers and it was rare that their families knew about their nighttime activities. And they never had a working social life. I mean, look at me.  
  
"In the beginning, yes," she answers slowly, "but now- no. They know that somebody has to fight the bad guys and that this somebody is me. It's cool, they never complain when I come home in the middle of the night."  
  
I don't say anything to that, remembering my mother's screams when she'd found me entering the apartment one night, my clothes torn and my face and arms bloody. Sometimes I think I can still smell her breath reeking of cheap alcohol as she yelled at me to pack my stuff and get the hell out of her apartment. That was the last time I saw her.  
  
Supportive, yeah.  
  
Faith stops and points at a grave before us. "That woman died yesterday. Do we want to say hello?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Secretly I still hope that we find a crypt that is full of vamps, a nest where I can crash in and lose myself in the fight- feeling nothing but the adrenaline rush and the small kick I get every time when another one of that bastards explodes to dust. Staking fledglings can be fun- well, as much fun there is when it's boring.  
  
"My turn."  
  
I let my stake where it is, giving the vamp at last a little bit of a chance.  
  
And really, a few minutes later the earth beneath the fresh flowers begins to move and a gray, dirty hand appears. I step back and let the vampire fight her way out. Although she's morphed into vamp face and is clearly hungry for blood, she doesn't fling herself at me immediately, like most vampires would do. No, she waits and growls low in her throat, the sound of a half-starved animal. The pull is finally too strong for her and she jumps at me. Or she tries to, because I stop her still in the air with a well- directed kick in the stomach. She falls to the ground and gets up again instantly, punching me in the face before I can avoid her fist.  
  
That hurt, you bitch.  
  
In return I backhand her and she flies through the air and crashes against her own headstone. I just want to take out my stake and get the virtual score between Faith and me even when something looking like a huge black shadow gets between the vampire and me; a second later I hear a soft poof and know that she's dust in the wind.  
  
I suppress a cry of frustration. That vamp was mine. And who's this anyway? The low tingle begins in my belly and I don't think as I attack the person before me because my instincts scream vampire, vampire, vampire and I follow them. It's a man, I see now, completely clad in black; it blends perfectly into the darkness of the night.  
  
He turns around and then I'm over him and he has no choice but to defend himself.  
  
And damn, he's fast. I lose myself like I wanted to and although I can hear Faith yelling something I don't understand her, don't want to understand her, because all that exists now is my opponent and me. Everything around us becomes blurry, the gravestones, the trees, Faith. Only him and me.  
  
I don't know how long we fought, but in the end I win, somehow. I straddle him and have just raised my stake to end his unlife as an unnaturally strong hand grabs my wrist and stops its descend. I want to struggle and open my mouth, but in this moment his eyes capture mine- and everything freezes.  
  
You know that cheesy movies, when there's a dramatic, heartbreaking moment; there's a close-up of the hero's/heroine's face and they often do that in slow motion, to increase the dramaticness or however it's called. I always laugh about that, but now.  
  
Now it's happening to me. For the split of a second I look into the vampire's eyes and the moment stretches into eternity. His eyes appear pitch black in the darkness and they shine so brightly. I can see his emotions and that's weird 'cause the eyes of a vampire are dead, cold, cruel. His are- beautiful.  
  
Time sets in again and I'm pulled back by Faith, lose balance and land ungracefully on my butt.  
  
"Stop it!" she tells me angrily, then, in a concerned, softer tone, "Are you alright?"  
  
I want to nod when I register that her question wasn't directed at me but at the vampire who slowly stands up.  
  
"Yes. Just a little surprised."  
  
She snorts. "A little surprised- you almost killed him!"  
  
That again is for me, although I don't really listen to her; I'm too occupied checking out my former sparring partner. He's relatively tall, with short brown hair and a face. oh yeah. I suppose he was in his mid- twenties when he was turned although I have absolutely no clue how old he is now. Something tells me that he is old; very old.  
  
"Who's 'him'?" I demand crossly, my badass attitude firmly in place.  
  
He reaches out a hand to help me to my feet; I ignore it and stand up myself.  
  
"I'm Angel." 


	5. 04 Blue

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 04 - Blue  
  
*"Where are we going?" Buffy asked for what must have been the tenth time.  
  
"You'll see," Thomas answered, "We're almost there."  
  
He stopped walking and carefully lifted the blindfold that covered Buffy's eyes. His protégée blinked and took in the scenario around her: the big gate, the families with the little kids, the huge posters of animals.  
  
"Is this the. zoo?" Disbelief colored her voice.  
  
"Well." Thomas cleared his throat, "You told me that you've never visited one. I thought that it would make a good birthday surprise- of course, if you feel to old for this, or find it boring, we can always do something dif- "  
  
He was cut of by Buffy's excited squeal and the fierce hug she gave him.*  
  
~~~  
  
I ignore the outstretched hand and stand up on my own- a girl's gotta have some dignity after all.  
  
"Angel," I say slowly, "Interesting name. So, what are you? You're sure as hell not human. Vampire, I would say, but that doesn't explain why you aren't trying to eat me right now."  
  
"It's a long story," Faith sighs. "The short version: He's a vampire, he got cursed with a soul and now he's one of the good guys."  
  
"A vampire helping you to kill his own kind?"  
  
"They aren't really my kind anymore," Angel says and I can feel that he's uncomfortable. He doesn't seem to like this conversation and for a moment I pity him- and the funniest thing is, I don't even know why. Faith glances at her fancy little wristwatch and groans.  
  
"Guys, this is very interesting and all, and I'd like to discuss this further, but I got a date at the Bronze and Xander's going to kill me if I'm late again- and Angel, you're officially roped into coming along. So. you want to come with us, Buffy?"  
  
The way she says my name tells me that I better say no if I want to survive the night unharmed. Sure, it would be fun to piss her and her vamp a little off and go with them, just for the heck of it. But I'm not in the mood for feeling like the outsider who smiles awkwardly when the others laugh about their old adventures and in-jokes.  
  
"Thanks, but- no, thanks. I think I'll pay a visit to another graveyard and look for a little action."  
  
And a way to let off some steam. Faith looks kind of relieved and grins at Angel, "Okay. Come on, Angel- if you're lucky then Cordy's still there."  
  
He groans audibly and she starts to laugh- see what I said about in-jokes?  
  
"Bye, Buffy," she calls back over her shoulder and Angel turns around, "It was. nice meeting you. It'll be good to have another slayer in Sunnydale."  
  
Another slayer- ouch. Anyway, I smirk and nod, "See ya later, sis'."  
  
I begin to walk in the opposite direction and don't look back. I reach the exit of the cemetery and step before the gates. What do I do know? Another graveyard? Nah, a graveyard means fledglings fresh out of the grave and that's boring. It's not even some kind of special night of the year, like Winter Solstice, where there's a lot of stupid demons doing stupid sacrifices to gain power over the world. Those are fun-nights for the graveyards. I could go to the motel and get a full night of sleep. That option doesn't sound so bad, except for the part with the sleep. My little fight with Angel was like, an appetizer and now I'm itching for the main course.  
  
Sighing, I turn around, in direction of the Bronze. I don't want to go in there, hell, no. But vamps always like young people, and a young boy or girl all hot and bothered from dancing. yum. Or, in my case, yikes. I bet there are some vamps out there waiting for their midnight snack.  
  
~~~  
  
The only light in the room comes from the window, a little bit of moonlight spilling through the blinds. If there was more light I could see all of my stuff- weapons, two books, a discman and some CDs strewn around me on the bed, and the clothes I wore today lying bloody and torn on the floor.  
  
I got my wish of a good brawl, but there weren't two or three vamps, there were five- insert a big "ooops" here, and needless to say that they weren't happy when I interrupted their meal.  
  
In the end, I won, but it was close. Too close for my taste- the bastards almost got me and most of my nearly healed wounds opened again. One - the one across my stomach - still hasn't stopped bleeding and I'm currently pressing a towel on it. I remember the face of Lothos as he showed me my own knife, as he let one of his ratty little minions draw it across my belly and I can hear his laughter as he saw Thomas struggling against his bonds.  
  
Suddenly it's too dark in here and I spring up and switch on the light. It's bright and I hiss as pain shoots through my belly. Springing up is not a good idea when you're injured, Buffy. I gingerly sit down on the bed again, next to a small stack of photos which are held together by a dark green ribbon. I tuck at the one on top and have to smile against my own will. It shows Thomas and me- most of the pictures show Thomas and me- on my thirteenth birthday. I'm laughing and holding a big cone of ice cream in my hand, and he has his mouth open as if he wants to say something. I remember that he actually told the woman who'd taken that picture to wait, because I'd smeared ice cream on his nose, but it was too late, so there's a big brown blob on his nose. In the background you can see a blue sky and a cage with an animal whose name I can't remember.  
  
The zoo. My first real birthday surprise ever, and my first visit to a zoo. Wow, that are memories, huh? My mother never took me to one, and when we made a visit with the school I'd been "ill" because I'd been too ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money for the ticket.  
  
I put the picture back and search for a clean bandage. I always have some, just in case. Yep, there are some, buried under a large blue tee shirt that isn't mine. I grab both the shirt and the bandage and head for the bathroom.  
  
Tomorrow I'll search for a job. 


	6. 05 Land of Dreams

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 05 - Land of Dreams  
  
*Buffy laid sprawled across the couch and watched Thomas as he prepared their dinner.  
  
"But I don't understand." She pouted. "Why do you have to go? Can't you just like, call?"  
  
Thomas smiled dryly as he sliced tomatoes for the salad. "Buffy, they're my parents. I don't think that they'd appreciate their only son ringing them up to say hello when they haven't seen me in a year. Besides, it's just a month. You can enjoy your holiday without a bothersome watcher."  
  
"Yeah, I'm really going to enjoy a month with my mom," Buffy muttered, then she said louder, "Your parents couldn't have another kid? To keep them occupied so they don't miss you so much."  
  
The knife he held clattered to the ground and he gripped the counter. She sprung up. "Hey! Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes." He took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine."  
  
"Then why are you looking like some ghost? Did I say something wrong?"  
  
"No. It's - I did have a sister, once. She died three years ago and it- it still hurts."  
  
"Oh." Buffy looked down. "What happened?"  
  
"What happened? She was the slayer, that's what happened."*  
  
~~~  
  
It's just another night in good old SunnyD. I can't stifle a yawn and rub my eyes. God, I'm shot. Like, really shot. My hunt for a job was successful- now I'm working in a funny fast food restaurant and serve cold hamburgers and really icky coffee. I even have a little nametag, although it's embarrassing to admit that, and I feel like I'm the only waitress there. I guess that I got the job because my predecessor died rather unfortunately of blood loss. I met her yesterday, for about two seconds before I shoved a stake through her heart.  
  
Did I mention that I'm shot? My boss is a fucking sadist and I swear, he likes to yell at me. Is it my fault that I tripped today and spilled said icky coffee all over a customer? No. Well, perhaps yes, but that's no reason to act as if it's the end of the world or something. For that little incident I had the choice to say goodbye to a four hours' salary or to work four hours overtime without salary- the money needed to pay for the laundry service. I chose the working because I'm still broke, but now I'm asking myself what good a few bucks do when my tiredness is getting me killed anyway.  
  
Yawning again, I put my stake in my bag an am just about to leave the cemetery to catch a few Z's when I almost stumble over a grave that's quite. messy? I kneel down and inspect the earth. Funny, it somehow doesn't look like a vampire left his grave- vamps normally make a big hole, but this here looks like one has dug up the whole damn coffin. The date on the tombstone states that Mariah McKenzie died four days ago. Could've been a vampire nevertheless.  
  
"Hi."  
  
I jump to my feet and turn around at the same time and I'm just too tired- I loose balance and fall almost on my butt, but two strong hands grab my arms and steady me.  
  
I look up and directly in Angel's face.  
  
"Um. hi."  
  
How graceful and not embarrassing, now he must think that I'm a complete klutz. I realize that he's still holding my arms and that we're a little too close for my taste. I shrug his hands off and step away from the grave.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask in what I hope is a casual not-hostile tone. Now that I know that I know he's here I can feel his vamp-vibe, that tingle, and it's making me uncomfortable. I don't know why I missed it earlier- oh, that's right, I'm tired.  
  
"Patrolling. Actually, I'm going to meet Faith and the others at the Bronze."  
  
"Are you guys like, living there?"  
  
He smiles and shakes his head. "No. At least not me. I'm not so sure about the others, though. But I was forced to come, according to Faith I need to improve my social skills."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Do you want to come with me?"  
  
"What? With you? In the sense of me going with you to the Bronze?"  
  
Way to go, Buffy, you made it sound like a date.  
  
"Yeah, you could meet the whole gang properly."  
  
"I don't know if that's such a good idea."  
  
"Sure. Even Cordelia will be there and the music is actually not that bad," he makes a face, " most of the time."  
  
Although all I really want to do is to drop into my bed and sleep the weekend away, for a moment I think that going to the Bronze wouldn't be so bad, and a moment is all it takes for saying yes.  
  
~~~  
  
We walk through a dark Sunnydale and the silence between us becomes slowly awkward, so I ask the first question that comes to my mind, "Can you give me the long version?"  
  
"What?" he asks puzzled, "The long version?"  
  
"Yeah. Of you. I mean, with you being good and all- I'd still like to know exactly why I mustn't stake you. And why you help Faith."  
  
"Oh." He hesitates.  
  
"If you don't want to tell me, that's cool, too."  
  
"No. It's all right. I- I was cursed with a soul by a clan of gypsies, about a hundred years ago, because I killed one of them, a young girl."  
  
"Wow," I whistle through my teeth, "You're older than most of them."  
  
"I was turned in 1753."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Why "ouch"?" he asks me with a quick glance. I shrug. "Well, I guess you didn't sit at home knitting until you got your soul. A couple of decades as vampire. ouch. For the people, I mean."  
  
"Yes," he says softly, "I surely didn't knit."  
  
"And then you decided to help people?"  
  
"No. Not really. You see, with a soul. I suddenly had a conscience. Do you know what it's like to feel the guilt for a hundred years of carnage and slaughter? I. you could say I freaked out. I hid myself form humans and lived on the streets until Whistler found me."  
  
He stops and I don't know what to say. What do you say to a killer who's turned all white hat? Sorry? For what? At the moment I don't feel very sorry for him and I don't pity him either. I sort of feel nothing, which is admittedly weird. At least the slayer instinct to dust him has shut up, and the tingle is gone. I can almost pretend that he's human, that he invited me to the Bronze. dream on, Buffy.  
  
"Who's Whistler?"  
  
"An annoying little demon. But he's a messenger from The Powers That Be, he found me and showed me Faith. He said that I'm supposed to help her. so here I am."  
  
"Sounds like fun," I know I sound snippy- to hell with it, I don't care. I'm not really the jealous type, but after hearing this, I feel a tiny pang of envy, which I quickly push aside. Faith needs help? Faith, who has an actual family, who has friends? Who has a watcher who's still alive? As I said, I ignore the little voice. I don't need anybody and even if, I surely don't need a souled ex-monster. Thanks, but no thanks; I'm more than fine on my own.  
  
"Yes," he murmurs and as I don't have a witty response for that I'm glad that we've arrived at the Bronze. Angel opens the door and I follow him. Loud music welcomes me, loud music, which is good.  
  
"Angel! Hey!" The redheaded girl - Will? - waves and he makes his way through the crowd with me trailing behind him. Now I can see that Faith's there with her boy-toy, the rather small guy from the library and a brunette who looks kind of bored. Indeed, the whole gang. Why did I come here again?  
  
"Oh, Buffy's there, too! Hi!" she chirps, "Did you run into each other on patrol?"  
  
"Yeah," I say, "Hi to you, too. Will?"  
  
She smiles, "It's actually Willow. Oh! You don't know everybody by name yet, do you? Okay, so this is Oz," she points out the small guy besides her, and I guess he's her boyfriend form the way he looks at her, "You know Faith, next to her, that's Xander-"  
  
"The comic relief!" he interrupts her and Faith laughs and wraps her arm around his waist.  
  
"I'm Cordelia," the brunette says and musters me in a way that clearly states that she thinks she's better than me. Whatever. "From the way the others spoke about you, I'd imagined you to be taller."  
  
I smirk. "I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"Come on, sit down! There's enough places for everyone," Willow makes a sweeping gesture with her hand and I'm glad to sit down. I slept three hours today, worked from seven a.m. to eight p.m., only with that excuse called a lunch break in between, and even that was shortened because of my extra hours. I sink back into the couch and kind of zone out. I don't really listen to the conversation; instead I look around and escape into my little own world.  
  
I don't know how much time has passed, perhaps half an hour, when the music changes to a slow song. Willow stands up and draws Oz to the dance floor, and Faith whispers something in Xander's ear; he smiles and stands up.  
  
"Guys, we're going to dance. 'Til later."  
  
"Whatever," Cordelia shrugs and stands up, too. "There's this hottie over there who's just gotten lucky."  
  
Which leaves Angel and me. Great. I think it's time to go, so I make no effort to stifle my yawn and get up. He looks up.  
  
"Do you want to dance, too?"  
  
Huh?  
  
"God, no. That's not my cup of tea. I'm just gonna go home and hit the sack. So, say bye from me to the others. Perhaps I'll drop by the library next week."  
  
"Okay." He rises, "I can walk with you if you want to."  
  
"Um- no. I'm the slayer, remember? I can take care of myself and you can stay here with the others. See you."  
  
"Goodbye, Buffy."  
  
~~~  
  
"Hello, Buffy."  
  
"Hey! You're late!"  
  
Thomas smiles and steps closer to hug me. I slowly hug him back, still a little mad at him- how can he let me wait so long? But somehow I'm just happy that he's here and I hug him back until he groans and laughs at the same time.  
  
"Buffy! You're still. incredibly strong, I see."  
  
"Oh. Sorry." I release him and notice for the first time that I'm standing in an empty Bronze. There's music playing and he smiles, "Do you remember?"  
  
"Remember?"  
  
((It won't rain all the time))  
  
Yeah, there's something I should remember, something important((The sky won't fall forever)). I know this song; I've heard it before, right before-  
  
"Thomas!"  
  
But he's gone, so is the music. I turn around, trying to find him but he's gone, gone, gone.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Angel? How did he get there? It makes no sense whatsoever. God, he's beautiful, even if his face is half covered by the shadows and I realize that I missed him, too. Something lies heavy in my hand and as I look down I see that I'm holding my knife. Can you say huh? What's that doing here?  
  
"For what?"  
  
I get no answer and as I look up I see that I'm alone. 


	7. 06 I Don't Have Anything

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 06 - I Don't Have Anything  
  
*The policeman rang the doorbell and Buffy swallowed and looked down at her worn out shoes. In a few minutes all hell would break loose and she secretly estimated her chances to escape from the cop- she could run down the stairs, out of the door- and into the arms of his partner who waited outside.  
  
He rang again and a moment later she could hear somebody inside yelling, "Yes, yes, yes! I'm fucking coming, so don't sweat it!"  
  
Her mother. Buffy had hoped that she somehow wouldn't be at home, or passed out, or anything, just unable to answer the door- surely they'd let her go then? No such luck.  
  
The door opened and she could see her mother, hair uncombed, face void of make up and clad in a bathrobe. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Joyce's day had just begun.  
  
"What is it?" she asked a tad more friendly as she saw the uniform of the man next to Buffy.  
  
"We found you daughter stealing in a supermarket. This time it'll be without consequences, but next time- you really should teach her that stealing is a bad thing. Good afternoon."  
  
"Goodbye and thank you, officer. I'll keep it in mind, it won't happen again."  
  
Joyce shut the door behind Buffy and said nothing for a moment. Buffy looked down at her shoes again. She should've tried to run.*  
  
~~~  
  
"Do you want more chicken, honey?"  
  
"No. Thanks."  
  
I swear, I'm going to hurl. I feel like I'm in some fucking episode of Dawson's Creek or something like that. Why did I ever accept Faith's invitation for dinner with her family? I must've been on crack, because now I'm stuck here with her stupid little brother, who I will kill personally if he opens his mouth once more, Faith herself who's barely said a word for an hour- and her parents. And if I ever was jealous of her family, which I of course never was, I take that back.  
  
How does she put up with them? Her mother has that I'm-so-proud-of-you- darling smile plastered all over her face, which is perfectly accented by make-up, and who hasn't stopped talking for the whole time, firing questions about his football practice at David and about last night's patrol at Faith; as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Her father doesn't speak as much but he, too, has that smile.  
  
Picture perfect and I really have to control myself not to scream. There's only so much family sweetness that I can take.  
  
Picture perfect mom now takes the half empty bowls - she's cooked enough to feed a small army - and says, "Faith, can you help me with the dessert?"  
  
"Of course, Mom."  
  
And Faith! She drives me nuts with her "Of course, Mom", "Yes, Mom", "No, Dad". How old is she, five?  
  
They disappear into the kitchen and I can hear them talking softly. Which leaves me alone with picture perfect dad and picture perfect brother. Somebody shoot me now.  
  
"So," picture perfect das clears his throat, "Faith has told us that you've arrive in Sunnydale only two weeks ago. How do you like it so far?"  
  
I shrug and play with my napkin that lies crumpled on the table. "I don't know. Many churches. More cemeteries. Enough work for me."  
  
He smiles, but this time it's not the I'm-so-proud-of-you-darling smile, it's the I-don't-know-what-to-say-now smile.  
  
"I bet my sister can kick your ass," picture perfect brother announces suddenly.  
  
"David, watch your language."  
  
"Sorry, Dad," he says, not sounding sorry at all.  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"You're too small. Kind of like Willow, like a girl. Not like a slayer."  
  
Now he's insulting me and I ask myself what would happen if I threw him out of the window, just for fun.  
  
"Want me to demonstrate my strength?"  
  
Picture perfect dad seems to notice the slightly dangerous edge in my voice, 'cause he laughs awkwardly, "Nobody doubts your strength- Faith said that your skills are impressive. Have you been training for a long time? Faith only started when she was called, but we know there are girls who are trained from birth."  
  
"I started training when I was twelve."  
  
"Wow."  
  
Yeah. Wow. Can't he just drop it? Why's everyone interested in my past anyway? I'm here now, that's what counts. What happened before is nobody's business.  
  
"Do you have a watcher?" he asks and now it's definitely enough. I stand up faster than is polite. "I got to go to the ladies."  
  
"Of course. Second door to the left."  
  
I can feel their questioning eyes staring after me as I almost bolt from the room. Thank God, this bathroom has a window. I open it and peek outside. There's a few flowers that I'll probably destroy, but I give a damn. All that questions, all that family-crap, all that perfect-ness, I can't stand that. I'm going nuts if I have to stay for dessert - some special homemade stuff after a receipt form grand-mom, no doubt - and although I'm well aware that it's really not nice, I climb out of the window, directly on the perfectly groomed flowers and run down the street.  
  
Free at last.  
  
~~~  
  
The stars are pretty tonight.  
  
I sit cross-legged on top of a mausoleum, listening to music coming out of my discman and watching the stars. I like them and they're a rare thing in LA. Too much smog, I guess. But here, in SunnyD you can see them quite clearly. So many, and they're so little- or at least they seem to be little. When I was a little kid I used to sit on the tiny balcony in front of my room and stare at the stars for hours. I don't know why they're so fascinating to me even now- I mean, I know now that there are no knights in shining spacesuits living on faraway stars, who one day get on their spaceship to save the damsel in distress, namely me.  
  
No, they're just pretty. And still a bit mysterious.  
  
From where I'm sitting I can overlook almost the whole graveyard, and I can see that a few graves further there's another messed up one, like the one I saw a week ago. Funny. I'm not sure yet what it means although I have a suspicion that's most likely to be true. I'll check it out tomorrow. I've had enough stress for today, with the family dinner.  
  
I can imagine their reaction to my "escape", picture perfect mom coming into the room with Faith in tow, in her hands the dessert, her surprised asking where I am, picture perfect dad glancing at his watch and muttering that I've been on the toilet for quite a while. Faith will check it out, will knock and call and finally just open the door. She'll see the open door, the trampled flowers and know the rest. And she'll be mad because I just took off, so mad that she'll search for me, probably to beat the crap out of me, and she'll say-  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
Ah. Faith's standing down there and she looks up to me on my mausoleum as if she's ready to kill me. Am I supposed to feel guilty for my little stunt? Probably. Do I feel guilty? Let me think about it. no. Not really.  
  
"Hi, sis'," I drawl and switch my discman off- now she's really pissed.  
  
"I'm not your sister," she snaps, "And I asked you something!"  
  
"Well, as I see it, I'm sitting here in a graveyard and watch out for the undead."  
  
"You know what I mean, so don't play dumb!"  
  
"I'm playing dumb? Okay, so I decided I wasn't in the mood for dessert. So I left a little sudden, what's the big deal?"  
  
"The big deal?" She almost screams now. "You just left! Through a window no less! I invite you for dinner and you manage to screw it up!"  
  
"Easy," I say and jump in one fluid motion from the mausoleum and land right in front of her. The dramatic effect is a little ruined by the fact that Faith's taller than me and I have to look up to glare at her, but still, I think it's pretty impressive. Not that she seems impressed by the daggers in my eyes. "I believe it was more your mother who had the brilliant idea of checking out SunnyD's latest addition to the good guys. I'll never see them again anyway! I'm not some kind of superhero who does a round of slaying before going home and helping Mommy doing the dishes. Sorry. And you can tell that your parents word for word. So if you excuse me now, I got vampires to slay, demons to kill, I'm already late tonight. Bye."  
  
I leave her standing there, staring after me and all. Now I do feel a tiny little bit bad, not so much for her but for her parents. After all, they couldn't have known that they'd invited a psychotic slayer without manners to dinner. 


	8. 07 Dirty Hole

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 07 - Dirty Hole  
  
*Buffy smiled a full-blown smile at the boy a few meters before her and was just about to greet him when a hand fell on her shoulder. She flinched and whirled around.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she hissed at Thomas.  
  
He raised his brows. "As far as I remember, we agreed that I'd fetch you from school today. You said you wanted me to improve your fighting skills."  
  
"Oh," Buffy blustered and threw a glance over her shoulder. He was still standing there, talking to his friends and laughing.  
  
"But can't we, like, do it tomorrow? I'm kind of busy this afternoon, you see, there's, um, there's a project in school and I so have to participate."  
  
"Buffy," her watcher sounded amused but stern, "I don't need to remind you of your duties? You can ogle at this boy over there tomorrow. He'll still be there."  
  
Buffy sighed, defeated, and followed him to his car.*  
  
~~~  
  
Monday sucks, that's for sure. Why? Well, it's the day after Sunday and in my book, that's enough to be on my shitlist. I spent the whole Sunday with sleeping and watching silly sitcoms on the TV and it was. nice. Normal, in a way. Went patrolling in the evening and danced off a bit of energy at the Bronze. There were even guys turning their heads after me and one in particular- I don't remember his name but the making out part in the middle of the dance floor was fun. Yep, it's easy to satisfy my ego.  
  
This day, on the other hand. my shift started at seven, dragged along until afternoon and I have that feeling that my boss is still pissed at me for spilling that bit of coffee last week. What an asshole. Pervert would fit, too, I caught him checking out my breasts today. Can you say eeew? And that was just the beginning of the week.  
  
"Hey, girl, you done already? If you want to read the newspaper, you got to buy it."  
  
"Just chill," I snap at the salesman and flip through the newspaper. Politics, politics, weather, sports. obituaries. Bingo. Although it's slightly disturbing that they fill two complete pages. I see the salesman glowering at me and shoot him my sauciest grin.  
  
"Can I buy just this one page?"  
  
"No. So either you pay for the whole damn thing, right now, or you get lost."  
  
"That's cool, too."  
  
Faster than he can see, I grab the newspaper and break into a run. He yells and chases after me- but he's no match, not by a long shot. Bad luck, buddy. Can't have it that Mondays only suck for me.  
  
~~~  
  
The night is quiet as I make my way to another SunnyD cemetery. I already went through Restfield Cemetery, but I came too late; the grave of a woman had already been dug up.  
  
Suddenly, I sense Faith behind me and turn around. She has her hands on her hips and raises her brows as she sees the crossbow I hold in my hands. "You're patrolling?"  
  
"That's what I do, yeah. Hi."  
  
She's probably still mad at me because of this dinner thing two days ago. Expects an apology or something like that. Well, fat chance; she can wait 'til hell freezes over.  
  
"What're you doing with that?" She points to my crossbow, "Not your natural choice of weapon."  
  
I shrug. "Thought I'd train my long-distance fighting skills. By the way, does your watcher-guy have bolts for that baby? I'm kind of short on them."  
  
I could just as well buy some, but hey, I'm still sort of broke. The Council isn't.  
  
"Yeah. You can check in later, Giles will be there. And can you report if you see something unusual?"  
  
"You searching for something special?"  
  
"No.-no. Giles is just paranoid. He's not happy if there isn't stuff to look up. You know, demon-y stuff, or another apocalypse, that really makes his day. Sick."  
  
"I can tell. So. bye then."  
  
"'Til later!"  
  
I watch her skipping down the street, seeming so careless, and I'll admit it- I'm jealous. Just a tiny, little bit, but still. Faith has the life I always dreamed of, successfully combining slaying with a social life; she even has a boyfriend. I snort quietly. Scratch that, I'd only want Xander in my nightmares as my boyfriend. Too dorky. And Willow and Angel for close buds? A wannabe-witch and a souled vampire? Not bloody likely. Social life really isn't all that important anyway.  
  
Someday I might even believe that. When I'm about fifty or something.  
  
I double-check my loaded crossbow, the only weapon besides some knives and stakes that I still have and search for the grave of Albert whatshisname who died two days ago. He should be on top of their dinner list. and bingo. I can hear her chanting a mile away.  
  
They're standing over the open grave, Adam and Alinh. Alinh is chanting in a language that sounds like a violin speaking Latin, no joke. Adam follows this chant silently, his head bowed, and I can almost see their magic sparkling in the air. I stand still and wait until the prayer is finished, then I raise the crossbow and step directly behind them.  
  
"Didn't I tell you to change your eating habits?"  
  
They both whirl around, ready to fight the intruder who interrupted their ceremony, but relax when they see me.  
  
"Buffy!" Alinh calls out, and her voice still has that melodic ring form speaking Jirash a moment ago. "We- what a surprise! What are you doing here? Not that it's not good to see you- I mean, Adam and me, we searched for you all over LA! He," she waves her perfectly manicured hand accusingly at Adam, "even wanted to sing! How gruesome!!"  
  
I grin, suddenly very, very giddy, "It's good to see you, too."  
  
~~~  
  
I almost skip down the corridor to the library, too happy to really notice the glances the students throw at my blood red leather pants and the black top that gives a - in my opinion - very good view at my breasts. I stayed up the whole night, laughing and catching up on the latest LA underground gossip. I haven't realized before how much I missed that, talking to friends. With Adam and Alinh I don't have to play some role; they already knew me when I'd been a slayer-in-training, small, stupid and terribly naïve.  
  
I push the doors wide open and whistle through my teeth to draw attention. "Watcher-guy? You there?"  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
He comes out of his office, carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a book in another. Stereotype watcher, how cute.  
  
"That would be me. Still remember me?"  
  
He frowns and takes a sip of his tea before putting the cup and the book on the table. "It's correct that I haven't seen you since your, um, introduction. Faith, however, told me that you've settled into your slaying duties. so you plan to stay?"  
  
"Not if I can help it. So don't even think about writing to you Council- buddies to get me a watcher, 'cause I'll be out of here in a few weeks anyway."  
  
"B-but as a slayer, you are under the supervision of the Council-"  
  
I cut him off, "Forget it. I work better without a British guy who's glued to my ass 24/7, believe me."  
  
That shuts him up; he takes off his glasses and begins to clean them with a handkerchief.  
  
"But that's not why I'm here, changing pleasantries. What I wanted to ask, do you have bolts? I need something to feed to my crossbow."  
  
"Um, yes. I have some stored." he goes over into a cage and opens an armoire- full of weapons. Yum. Oh, goody, I'd love to try some of these axes sometime. While Giles rummages through them, I take a peek at the book he'd been reading. It's some obscure text in I don't know which language, but there's a nice picture with a really ugly demon next to it. Ugh, wouldn't want to fight that, his horns look like they'd be a danger to my newly bought outfit.  
  
"How big is your crossbow, Buffy?"  
  
"I don't know. Rather small. Council standard, I think."  
  
He gives me some bolts and I look at them fleetingly before stuffing them in my bag. "Thanks, so what are you researching? Looks like fun."  
  
He looks at the picture and sighs. "Faith has brought to my attention that there were several unusual looking graves. it's possible that it was only vampires, but I want to make sure that there isn't something different messing with the dead. Did you notice something out of the ordinary?  
  
Oh. I begin to grin when Faith and tagalongs enter the library. She looks surprised to see me.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Hi, sis'. Hi, rest. I just came to fetch my slaying stuff from your watcher."  
  
I stress the 'your watcher' deliberately so she doesn't get the idea that I hang out here for fun, or that I accept Giles as my watcher.  
  
"Don't bother searching for the grave-digging guys. They're a) gone and b) not to find in any book. Trust me."  
  
"You- you saw them?"  
  
"Yeah. They invited me for a cup of coffee, to be exact."  
  
I smile at their confused faces, "It's not like they're dangerous."  
  
Faith seats herself cross-legged on the table. "Sure. So, who are they? The truth, please."  
  
I roll my eyes, but a little, perverse part of me is secretly pleased that she asks me for information. Me, slayer number two and reluctant ally, not her watcher version super-British, nor her perfect friends. I'm pathetic, I know.  
  
"They are twins. Their names are Adam and Alinh and they are half human, half Jirash demon."  
  
"Jirash demons?" Giles asks and hastily leaves through a book. "But they- ah, yes, here it is. Are you sure?"  
  
He shows me a picture of a human looking demon, except for the pitch-black skin and the white horns all over its body.  
  
"That one looks like their dad."  
  
"B-but they never mate with humans, it's unheard of. Jirash are extremely violent and strong, no normal human woman would survive, ahm-"  
  
"Look, I didn't ask for the specifics. I know that they're not dangerous. They only have to eat the hearts of recently deceased people every few days. That's why they dig up graves, no biggie. They good thing is, they stake the vampires they find in their coffins. Makes my work easier."  
  
"And you know them?" Xander speaks up, "like, in the friendly kind of knowing? Wasn't there a paragraph in the slayer handbook about killing demons?"  
  
"I never read the damn thing. What about you, sis'?"  
  
Faith shrugs and grins, "Giles told me that it would be of no use for me. I'm five by five without it. But Xander has a point. Do you ask every demon if it's dangerous before sticking pointy things through its body?"  
  
"No. But I didn't exactly meet them in a graveyard. Anyway, it's not important, they are harmless. Was there anything else? 'Cause my break ends in about five minutes."  
  
"Did you know that they were in Sunnydale messing with the graves before meeting them?" Giles asks.  
  
"Yeah. I don't know any other people who eat dead people."  
  
"And you couldn't have told us that a little earlier?" Faith suddenly snaps at me. Well, if she's unfriendly, I'll do the same.  
  
"Why? It was none of your business."  
  
"It's sure my business if there's demons in Sunnydale! Slayer here, remember?"  
  
"Don't get your knickers in a twist."  
  
Oops. I spent way too much time around a Brit if I start talking like that. But really, what's her problem? She doesn't tell me anything either, and I'm not her pet slayer reporting dutifully every detail to her. No way.  
  
"Buffy, as a slayer it is your duty to report anomalies to your watcher. As you have no watcher, the person you report to would be Faith or me. In this case your neglect didn't cause any harm, but it would have spared some of hours of useless research."  
  
Giles is in full lecturing, holier-than-thou watcher mode, complete with cleaning his glasses. My butt, I'm going to hurl. Time to get outta here.  
  
"You know what? I don't report to anyone but me. I'm not part of your little gang and I don't want to be one. I do my job but it's not your concern how I do it."  
  
I breeze out of the library, head high, but my former good mood is gone. 


	9. 08 Three Doors

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 08 - Three Doors  
  
*"Mom, I'm home!" Buffy cried and shut the door behind her with a loud thud. "Not that you'd notice anyway," she muttered under her breath and went to the kitchen to get something to drink.  
  
"Ah, the little bastard's finally arrived. Good morning!"  
  
She glared at the current boyfriend of her mother. "It's five in the afternoon, Nick."  
  
The man on the chair laughed drunkenly and shrugged. "Yeah? Anyway. Where've you been?"  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"It's damn well my business!" he shouted suddenly and his fist crashed on the table, "Your mother worries herself sick over you!"  
  
"You're not my father!" Buffy yelled back, raising her fists. So far Nick had done nothing but to insult her, but he was probably too drunk to care if he hit her.  
  
"And thank God for that! If he's anything like you then it's no miracle that Joyce hates him! He must have been one sick fucker. how's the saying, like father, like son? Or daughter, in your case!"  
  
He laughed at his own bad joke and Buffy used the opportunity to escape. She slammed the apartment door behind her and ran down the stairs.*  
  
~~~  
  
You know, sometimes there are days when I think that my life is one big festival of suck. And there are days when I think that it's. not. Today it's such a day. I mean, my job still sucks big time, no doubt about that. My boss is still an asshole, but my tips haven't been bad so far, the customers haven't yelled at me once, I haven't spilled or broken anything and the day's almost over.  
  
It's hot in the kitchen and I slowly sip on my cool coke and watch the cook smoke his cigarette outside through the open backdoor. I silently do the math in my head, how long I'll have to work here until it's enough for some decent clothes and a bus ticket to the east coast.  
  
East coast. I'd like to see New York, the Big Apple. It sounds an eternity away. Before, when I lived in Los Angeles, I never really thought about moving. I mean, LA is pretty big, you can have everything there, there were always enough vampires to stake- why leave? But now I want to see the world. I have no ties anywhere, no family to go to, no friends, just a strange address in England in Thomas' handwriting, 'for emergencies'.  
  
Faith is perfectly capable of protecting the hellmouth alone and I'm free to stake vampires all over the world. Sounds like a plan, doesn't it? As soon as I have enough money.  
  
"Buffy! Get your ass out here and work, I don't pay you for doing nothing!"  
  
Ah, that's my boss, charming as always. Sighing, I finish my glass and grab a tray.  
  
~~~  
  
After work I go to the motel, shower and change into something less ugly and more Buffy-style like and go patrol after eating a slice of cold take out pizza, left from the evening before.  
  
My good mood is surprisingly still lasting and I begin to hum as I wander down dark streets, making plans for the upcoming weekend. I think a mini- sized shopping trip for some new tops is in order, and I heard from a customer that there's a new club a couple of kilometers from SunnyD; I could try that one out. The Bronze is nice and all, but there's just kids fooling around. Kids with a really bad taste in music.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
I turn around and see Angel standing behind me. I haven't seen him around lately; only a couple of times at the Bronze, hanging out with Faith and her gang.  
  
After our little disagreement at the library about me reporting to them and all that crap, Faith and me divided the town into two parts; she patrols the one half and I the other one. Actually, I haven't seen her or her tagalongs for three weeks.  
  
"Ah, the Souled One. Hi."  
  
"Are you patrolling?"  
  
I hold up a stake. "Looks like it. You want to come along?"  
  
Where the hell did that come from? Me asking Angel- a vampire- to do my patrol with him? Okay, so, good vampire, but still a bloodsucker. Perhaps I got conked on the head too often.  
  
He falls into stride with me and hesitates shortly before saying, "I haven't seen you in a while. Faith told me you'd had an argument."  
  
I snort. "Please. Calling that an argument is like saying- well, I don't know, but we didn't argue. Faith's gotta get over herself."  
  
"You don't like her very much, do you?"  
  
I shrug, "Never said that. My sis' can be really decent, if she wants to be. But her whole attitude is just so neat and controlled and freaking perfect that I want to scream."  
  
And again with the wondering who controls my mouth today. Why do I tell him this stuff?  
  
"Is that why you're never around? We could have used your help last week with some demons."  
  
"Nobody told me about it. And I so don't have the time to hang out in a library waiting for that stuffy watcher of hers to finish his researching gig. I have a job and a calling to do. If Faith needs me, she knows where I live."  
  
He doesn't say anything for a while, just sort of glances at me from time to time. But it's not an uncomfortable silence, but rather a not- uncomfortable one. I'm content with checking out the dark alleys.  
  
"Where did you live before?"  
  
The question comes out of nowhere and I stop and stare at him, "Why?"  
  
"I'm just curious."  
  
"Los Angeles."  
  
"Why did you leave?"  
  
"What's this, twenty questions?" I ask irritated. Over the last weeks I tried to push the memories about my life in LA aside; I don't want to dream about blood and fire and screams every night anymore.  
  
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Sorry I asked."  
  
I swallow and sigh, "Listen, it's just. my- my watcher died. And, and I had nothing left, 'cause he'd been the only family I ever had. And my stupidity got him killed."  
  
I breathe out, feeling wetness gather in my eyes. I hastily wipe it away before the wetness becomes tears. I don't cry, ever.  
  
"He didn't deserve to die," I whisper.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buffy."  
  
"Why? Wasn't your fault. You weren't even there."  
  
Angel looks at me and I feel his dark eyes boring into mine. Normally, I'd feel uncomfortable, because I don't like it when people look at me too closely, but now I feel like I could drown in his eyes. They're beautiful, you know?  
  
"No. But I'm sorry that he was taken away from you."  
  
"Not just from me. His name was Thomas. And he had a mom and a dad living in England in one of those big mansions, and he sometimes told me that they felt so lonely in that big house with no kids, and that's why he visited them every summer, so they wouldn't be lonely. And now he's just gone and his parents won't have anybody visiting them. And it's my fault."  
  
If my brain would work properly, I'm sure it would tell me to shut the hell up and stop with the pitiful blubbering already. But it doesn't work at all at the moment, and I'm glad, because somehow I know that Angel will listen to me- the real me, no just to the witty, quick-mouthed slayer-me- and that he'll understand. Somehow, he'll understand. Yes, he is a vampire and I've barely seen him, except for a few times, less had a conversation with him, but I trust him right now.  
  
"Why do you think that it was your fault?"  
  
"I didn't pay attention. I thought I had it all, the wits, the skill, the strength. We- there was a master vampire in town, complete with minions and all that crap. His name was Lothos and Thomas warned me that he'd be strong. I didn't care. We did have a plan to take him down, but it didn't work out. We were caught."  
  
I stop to sit down on a bench, and Angel quietly takes place beside me.  
  
"They played with me and Thomas had to watch. He fought, but he's- he was just human and they laughed at him. He offered his life for mine, but they said that I'd die anyway. They- they-"  
  
Angel slowly takes my hand and caresses it, and I don't draw away.  
  
"You don't have to go on, if it's too hard for you to remember."  
  
I shake my head. "No, I'm good. I have to speak about it sometime anyway, might just as well be now."  
  
His hand squeezes mine lightly. Creepy how I'm not weirded out by the coldness of it.  
  
"They drank his blood," I murmur, "They drained him and I sat by and screamed. He screamed, too. God, there was so much blood and their faces were full of it. He didn't give up, tried to break free, and Lothos stood by and laughed. There was still a little life in him, and he told him that it would be fun to see a watcher eat his own slayer. They forced him to drink their blood."  
  
I pause and glance at Angel. "Do you remember what it's like? To die and drink blood? Does it," I lick my lips, "does it hurt?"  
  
"Buffy-"  
  
"Tell me the truth."  
  
"Yes. When my sire, Darla, bit me, it hurt. But after that I was too dazed to notice what was going on."  
  
"I broke free. I guess I was just desperate and I still believed that I could save him. I fought Lothos. And I won, I staked him. His minions ran away, but we'd been in a warehouse with canisters of gas, so they set it on fire. I didn't care; I just wanted to get Thomas out. but I- I saw him change. He was dead and the slayer in me said that he was turned and that it was too late. I wanted to run, to get away, but then I thought, what would happen if he woke up? He'd be a monster. He once told me that turned watchers are the most dangerous vampires, 'cause they know so much stuff. Angel, do you know what I did? Come on, guess.  
  
He looks at our joined hands and answers slowly, "You made sure that he wouldn't rise again."  
  
"And the prize goes to the vampire with a soul. That's right. I put a stake through his chest."  
  
~~~  
  
The knock on my door wakes me up around 8.30 a.m. On a Sunday. Who the heck is this? Nobody- let's repeat that for emphasis- nobody ever knocks on my door at 8.30 a.m. on a Sunday without being eaten for breakfast. I mean, please, in Buffy-standard this time classifies as the middle of the night; I went to sleep barely two hours ago.  
  
I bury my head under the pillow and will the intruder to go poof. I'm bone- tired, which is kind of strange because I didn't fight nasties last night; I didn't patrol at all. No, I spent the night on a bench talking to Angel.  
  
My little confession ended- thank God- without me bursting into tears, but with him listening to me saying absolutely nothing. And somewhere around midnight he began to tell me about himself, the extended, Director's Cut version- how he was turned, his Scourge of Europe days until he snacked on the wrong girl, and his life before that demon-guy Whisper- or Whistler? Whatever- found him hunting rats in New York. Somehow I spoke about my life in Los Angeles after that, and we stayed on that bench until sunrise was near and Angel had to leave; but he still went to the motel with me and said good-bye.  
  
What a strange, strange night. I felt so good around him; I could tell him everything and was sure that he wouldn't report the story of my life to the watcher guy.  
  
I wonder when I'll see him again.  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm coming already!" I yell at the door, stumble out of my bed and nearly trip over the pile of clothes I left carelessly on the floor. I'll clean this room up, sometime. In the near future. Next century.  
  
Looking through the peephole, I see Faith raising her fist to knock again. I open the door and blink sleepily at her.  
  
"Mornin', sis."  
  
"Can I- Can I come in?"  
  
"Sure. Just don't notice the less than sparkly state my room's in."  
  
"I won't."  
  
I plop on the bed and gesture to the chair standing before the window, "Have a seat. Don't be surprised if it crashes or anything, it can be a little wacky sometimes."  
  
"No. I'd- I'd rather stand- or- leave. This whole idea was- sorry I woke you up."  
  
She's already at the door and I spring up and grab her arm, "Wait! What's up? You're being all distracted and- sad and teary. Did someone die?"  
  
Faith shrugs off my arm and wipes across her eyes that are indeed full of tears. Wow. I don't mean wow in the Wow!great sense but Wow!What the.? sense. I've never seen my sister slayer weak, let alone crying. And with her face being all blotchy and her eyes red and puffy, she's been doing just that for some time now.  
  
"Nothing's up, I'm five by five. Aren't I always? Can't have that, Faith not being less than peachy."  
  
She sniffles and I raise my brows.  
  
"Come on. Sit down."  
  
I practically push her on my bed and grab some discarded pants form the floor, putting them on and sitting cross-legged before her. And wait. Finally Faith sighs.  
  
"Do- do you have a Kleenex or something? I'm sure I've got snot all over my face."  
  
"Here," I give her the whole box. She blows her nose and fiddles with the used Kleenex.  
  
"So. Spit it out."  
  
Faith laughs, but it's not a happy sound.  
  
"I- I just wanted some fun, you know? Last night I'd promised Giles to patrol, 'cause there seems to be something strange going one, again. But I found nothing, no vamps, and with it being a Saturday night, I thought I'd stop by the Bronze."  
  
She pauses, stands up, then sits down again. Nervous much?  
  
"And, and Willow was there and. Xander."  
  
She almost spits out his name, sounding hateful. Trouble in paradise, then. Last time I saw them both, they were engaged in quite an x-rated make-out session.  
  
"They were in the middle of the fucking dance floor, kissing."  
  
Oh, crap. I must've said that out loud, because Faith nods, "Yeah, I thought that, too. I mean, Wills is- was- I don't know, supposed to be my best friend, or something. And while I'm," she hiccups and starts crying again, "trying to keep the world in one piece, she's out sucking face with my boyfriend!"  
  
She screams the last words, springs up and begins to pace around the room. I still sit on the floor, stunned. Wonder-boy cheated on her with the Wannabe-witch? Can I say 'huh'? Is he brain-dead or something? I mean, nothing against Willow, but if I were gay, I'd choose Faith over her in a second. Which I'm not. And I don't think that this would be a very comforting thing to say to a mightily heartbroken and pissed off slayer right now.  
  
"I- I don't know what to say," I mutter.  
  
Faith stops and punches the wall. I think I pity the wall, too.  
  
"Listen, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, I- I just had nowhere to go to. and I need to talk about this and there's just nobody who'd understand and I know that we sorta argued."  
  
"No, that's okay."  
  
I tuck a strand of hair behind my hair and sigh. What am I supposed to do now? Never been in a situation like that before. If one of my boy-toys cheated on me - which rarely happened, because it's kind of hard to be cheated on if you kick them out after one night- I went to beat up some nasty and proceeded to forget that the guy ever existed. Worked splendidly for me. And now I got to play relationship-therapist? Couldn't she have gone to Angel? Or Giles? Or her picture perfect family? Why did Faith go to me, the Other Slayer- yes, that's written in capital letters-who's brassy and unfriendly and manner-less to get her emotional comfort? On a Sunday, no less?  
  
But then I see the look on her face and realize that she probably felt just as desperate as I did before a burnt down warehouse two months ago.  
  
"Aren't you hungry?" I ask suddenly and Faith looks confused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hungry. 'Cause I'm starved. And you probably ate nothing for breakfast either. A slayer's gotta keep her strength. Come on, I'm inviting you to a fabulous breakfast in one of SunnyD's finest restaurants- after I shower, mind you- and I promise, you'll feel better after that. Does that sound like a plan?"  
  
She nods and I smile, "Get cozy, whatever, it won't take long."  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
I may be imagining it, but Faith looks a little less desperate to commit suicide.  
  
"Thanks for listening to me."  
  
I shrug, "No biggie. That's what sisters are there for, isn't it?"  
  
~~~  
  
"And you really almost staked him?"  
  
"Yeah," Faith laughs, "You would've done the same. Here I was all innocent."  
  
I snort at that, 'cause I've seen a lot of Faith in the last time and innocent is the last word I would describe her with, and she shots me a withering glare.  
  
"So, here I was all innocent, going to the Bronze- for the first time, too! And there was this guy that followed me and caused my belly to go all tingly. Vamp-vibe plus sneaking up results normally in immediate stakage."  
  
"Why didn't you? Not that I want to see Angel as ashtray material."  
  
She shrugs, "He didn't attack, acted all gentleman-ly, even gave me a cross- I thought that my spidey sense had a bad day, with me being all new on the hellmouth."  
  
"Yeah, that hellmouth-y power is confusing, 'cause there's always that vibe- y thing going on- took me a while to get used to it."  
  
I jump on a headstone and cry out, "Hello, Hellmouth! How're you doing today?"  
  
Faith grins. "Be careful, it might just decide to answer. So, what do we do now? The night's just begun."  
  
"Oh, I like the sound of that, sis. How about Bronzing our latest dusting of yet another vampire nest? A really annoying one, I might add."  
  
Her grin falters. "I don't know. Isn't there another hangout in Sunnydale?"  
  
"Last time I checked? No. Why are you asking me anyway? I haven't been living here for three years."  
  
"So the Bronze it is. On y va!"  
  
I guess I must've looked a bit strangely because Faith throws up her hands in mock annoyance, "What? I didn't sleep through all of my French classes, just so you know!"  
  
"If you say so."  
  
She laughs and I shake my head and follow her. In the two weeks since Faith ruined my wallet by eating the biggest breakfast the 'restaurant' had to offer (I ate nothing 'cause I know what the kitchen looks like- I work there after all) we became sort of friends. We patrol together and boy, that is fun, we trained a couple of times with that still stuffy watcher of hers and we often hang out together, just for fun. In fact, she's practically been living with me when she's not at school, and she skipped that a lot, too. But one thing Faith has avoided like the pest and that's going to the Bronze- perhaps she's still traumatized by seeing that cretin of a now-ex-boyfriend kissing Another Girl, namely Willow, ex-best-friend on the dance floor.  
  
She hasn't spoken about that scene at all during the last weeks; I think she's done her best to forget that Xander Harris ever existed, although she confessed that she still "kind of loves that stupid bastard"; that was after a few shots of tequila, in a demon bar. Gotta love the fact the bartender's too frightened of you to ask for an ID.  
  
"Hello? Earth to Buffy?"  
  
"Yes?" I smile at Faith, "Sorry I zoned out. What did you say?"  
  
"Are we going inside or something?"  
  
"Yeah. You aren't afraid of meeting your tagalongs?"  
  
"Doesn't matter if I meet them. They're probably too occupied ravishing each other to notice me. Let's dance! I'm in the mood for dancing."  
  
Faith grabs my hand and leads me inside. The music seems to fit her mood; it's hard, fast and most importantly, loud. She quickly finds the rhythm of the song and begins dancing with a guy who musters her adoringly. I snort. I don't understand how she went out with that dork for over a year. If Faith wants to, she has the guys falling all over her.  
  
It seems that she wants just that tonight.  
  
"Hey, Buffy."  
  
"Oh look, it's the loving ex! What are you doing here?"  
  
I shoot Xander my best look of ice and smirk satisfied when he swallows nervously, "Looks like I'm at the Bronze. Searching for you."  
  
I raise my brows. "Really?"  
  
"Or- searching for Faith," he clarifies, "She hasn't been around a lot lately and she hasn't returned any of my calls although it's a miracle that her answering machine hasn't exploded yet, what with the phone calls every hour."  
  
"Your point is?"  
  
"Do you know where she is?"  
  
This is gonna be fun.  
  
"Yep," I smile slowly and point behind me to the dance floor where Faith has obviously a very good time- kissing the guy she danced with earlier. And it's not just a quick peck on the cheek- we're talking about the full package here, tongue action and all.  
  
Revenge's a bitch.  
  
~~~  
  
The look on Harris' face was priceless and I still giggle quietly over it as I come home from work the next day- just to find Willow sitting in front of my door step. She hastily gets up as she spots me.  
  
"Oh! Hi, Buffy.."  
  
"Hi," I mutter as I fumble with my key. Perhaps she'll go away if I ignore her.  
  
"So, um, how you're doing?"  
  
"Fantastic. What do you want? You surely didn't wait for me to inquire about my well-being."  
  
"It's about Faith."  
  
"I never would've guessed. Spit it out, I have a date with my shower."  
  
The mini-witch flushes.  
  
"It's just that she's never around anymore and she, she won't talk to me- or, or Xander-"  
  
"I wonder why, after that stunt you pulled at the Bronze."  
  
"But that was an accident!"  
  
"An accident. Interesting choice of words."  
  
Now she's blushing in earnest, "No, I wanted to say- no the, um, kissing, but that it happened at all- that was. The accident. It wasn't that I planned it, it just sort of happened."  
  
"It happened that Xander and you discovered to be truly, madly, deeply in love? You've known each other for how long now?"  
  
"I- no! We're not in love or together or anything! It was just a- a thing-"  
  
"That hurt Faith pretty bad. Hence the no-speaking to you," I finish the sentence for her. Willow sighs and sits down on the steps. Her voice sounds small and sad and I'd pity her if I hadn't seen my sister slayer completely crushed two weeks ago.  
  
"I'm sorry, you know. And I tried to tell her that, but she doesn't answer her phone and she's been skipping school- that's why I came, to ask you where she is. She didn't come home last night and her parents are so worried- they thing something happened to her."  
  
"Why don't you go ask your boy-toy?" She stares at me for a second, uncomprehending, then I can almost see the little light bulb in her head go off, "Xander's not my boy-toy! He's just my friend and what do you mean anyway? He saw her yesterday at the Bronze but they didn't talk- right?"  
  
"Faith's mouth was busy. elsewhere. Now, who was that boy, I think I remember his name- Scott, she said. Scott Hope."  
  
"What?" Will almost screeches, "Scott Hope? But he's like- she doesn't even like him! She was totally not with the liking him last time he tried to hit on her!"  
  
"She seemed pretty happy with him last night though. Especially when they left together. Listen," I hurry to explain because Willow looks like she's about to faint any minute now from shock, "Faith's a big girl. And I'm not her babysitter. She'll come home when she wants to. She's seventeen, she's the slayer, I say she can take care of herself. And I'm going to take a shower now before I die from the grossness that is the smell of greasy kitchen." 


	10. 09 Touched

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 09 - Touched  
  
*"Hey, cutie! Nice skirt!" someone said and a large hand slapped her on the butt. Buffy whirled around and saw Robert, one of the more feared guys at school grinning and eying her short, black leather mini-skirt appreciatively.  
  
"You know, if you'd dress like that all the time, someone might even want to look at your ugly face."  
  
His friends who were standing around him laughed out. Buffy felt her face flush hotly and balled her hands into fists.  
  
"Get lost, Robert."  
  
He only leered at her and reached out a hand to rest on her hip. "I'm just saying, cutie! I mean, you really brought a guy to notice your a-"  
  
He didn't get to finish his sentence because Buffy slapped him with all her might. What surprised her was that he flew back and crashed into a locker, unconscious.  
  
Buffy stared at him with big eyes.  
  
"Oh, crap."*  
  
~~~  
  
I begin to get worried after Faith hasn't shown up for a week. Sure, I told Willow what she can take care of herself but I haven't seen her since that night at the Bronze either- and that was a week ago. I'm not her babysitter and she doesn't have to check in with me every five minutes, but the girl was practically living with me for two weeks and then- poof.  
  
I don't even want to be worried- when did that happen anyway?- because being worried means that I'm kind of attached to her, which leads straight to being dependant and this is so the last thing I need right now.  
  
But I'm enough concerned that I voluntarily go the lion's den aka Sunnydale High library to ask about her.  
  
Calling would've been an option, too, but I had nothing to do except to sleep or to stare at the walls 'cause the TV's broken. Me and my rotten luck.  
  
Every self-respecting human being wouldn't be anywhere near the high school on a Sunday but Giles' a watcher; he probably sleeps there. And I don't know where he lives normally. I swore to myself that I wouldn't go to Faith's picture perfect family or her so-called friends- I do have some pride. Well, there's always Angel but I don't know his address either.  
  
I blaze into the library calling out lout a "Anybody here?" and stop dead in my tracks as the complete Scooby Gang- including Angel, some unknown woman and, bingo, Faith- looks up from a pile of books, empty soda cans and pizza boxes. That question just answered itself, I see.  
  
"Hello Buffy," Giles says, in a startled where-did-*you*-come-from tone.  
  
"Hi. Big research party going on?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Insert awkward pause here.  
  
"So. I wanted to ask about Faith actually. 'Cause she kinda disappeared off my radar for the last days. But now that she's all peachy, I'll just leave and let you guys have fun with the researching."  
  
I'm already out of the door when Faith comes after me.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
"What?" I unpack a gum with the greatest indifference possible and pop it in, slowly.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't catch up with you last week, but things have been. kind of crazy."  
  
"So what? No biggie."  
  
"But- see, there were these invincible demons and they beat me up pretty bad and- remember Scott?"  
  
"The guy at the Bronze."  
  
"Right. I- I slept with him."  
  
"What's this to do with invincible demons? Unless he was one."  
  
Faith shots me a disgusted look and snaps, "Of course not! I just. I felt so bad after that- I just wanted to get back at Xander and things went overboard from there. Do you know what it's like to wake up in someone else's bed and you just want to die?"  
  
"Yeah," I sigh, "still, not seeing the connection to the demons here."  
  
"I ran into them on Sunday, in broad daylight. I came, saw and got pummeled. I kinda woke up in the hospital with the whole gang looming over me."  
  
"And you decided to pull the let's forgive and forget card."  
  
"It just- jeez, Buffy, I woke up with little needles and tubes sticking in my body! I didn't decide anything, I just needed them. And no, Xander and I aren't together anymore. Satisfied now? But he and Willow are my only real friends here and.. and."  
  
I can see that she wants to slap herself the moment the words have left her mouth. Too late to take them back now, sis'. At least I know now for sure what I tried to ignore the last weeks: I'm nothing but a substitute for her 'real' friends. Convenient if there's nobody else but dropped like something particularly icky afterwards.  
  
Thanks a lot.  
  
"I'm cool with that, sis'. Just wanted to see if you'd been eaten by a vampire or something like that. You should go back now, help the gang to research these demons. Wouldn't want to see you another time in the hospital."  
  
"Do you want to help us? With the researching? I mean, you could come across them, too and I'm almost sure that there's till a few donuts left."  
  
Now the guilt kicks in and her good manners demand that she make up for it. It's ridiculous how Faith's like an open book for me sometimes. The "no" is already at the tip of my tongue but then I remember my broken TV, so I say "yes" and go back to the library with her.  
  
I sit down next to Angel and he half-smiles at me, "So you decided to join us?"  
  
"Got nothing else to do. Who're you?" I ask the dark-haired woman who's way too old to be a student and doesn't look British enough to be a watcher.  
  
"That's Giles' lady love," Xander mutters and grins at the watcher who's taken off his glasses to glare at him, "What? Isn't she?"  
  
The woman looks up from her screen, "I'm Jenny, I'm a teacher here. I help Rupert sometimes with doing research on the net."  
  
"Willow Version 2.0?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"So, what are you searching for?" I flip idly through a thick volume that's seen a few centuries more than me.  
  
"Faith perhaps told you that she encountered a group of three demons near the college campus against she, am, lost. They seemed to be Beluah demons, at least their yellowish fur and red claws indicated that, but they couldn't be beaten by any weapon. Angel said that it could be a rare breed, relatives of the Beluah, or perhaps even a mutation."  
  
"Okay," I snap my gum and begin to dig through the tomes. One book is bigger than the other and about half of them are written in Latin or ancient Sumerian or some other funky language I've never even heard of.  
  
Giles clears his throat. "Please, do be careful, Buffy. Some of these books are extremely old and valuable. It would be a pity if they were damaged."  
  
"Don't worry, I won't smear snot all over them," I roll my eyes, "I've done this before."  
  
And without the support gang and junk food, too.  
  
"Y-yes, I was just saying that you could handle them a bit more delicately- "  
  
I slam the book shut and everybody flinches, but pretends not to have noticed. Angel lays a hand on my arm but I shrug it off and stand up. "I don't need to do this. You don't like me, I don't like you, so I'll get outta your hair now. Was stupid to come, anyway."  
  
I march out of the room with seven pairs of eyes staring after me and throw a perfectly British-accented "Have a nice day" over my shoulder. Let them look for their rare breed; I already fought Beluahs a couple of months ago and I spent enough time reading stuff about them before - they can mate only every five years, how very important- and I know that there's not a rare breed nor a weird mutation thing going on. If Faith's too busy grieving over a one night stand and her lost love to get her ass kicked by three everyday-demons, well, that's her problem.  
  
Me, I'm going to kill some Beluahs now.  
  
~~~  
  
I think fleetingly that Faith was damn right about them being invincible when Furry's claws rip my shirt apart and sink into my right shoulder. It hurts like hell and I have to grit my teeth to keep from crying out loud. Instead I punch him right on the nose- at least I suppose it's its nose- and taunt, "That all you got?"  
  
It growls menacingly and its two fellow demons- Furry 2 and Furry 3- come to its side. I do realize that I'm in deep shit already and that my situation isn't likely to get better anytime soon but I won't go down without a fight and a few of well-placed quips.  
  
"Should have know that anything which looks like a bad Teletubby clone would fight like one, too."  
  
They lunge at me at once- how do they know what Teletubbies are?- and I make a dash towards, pushing Furry 2 back with all my weight. He stumbles and almost falls over his two companions which gives me enough time to pick up the knife I let drop earlier and ram it into its chest. One down, two to go- but the real weird and absolutely unfair thing is that the knife doesn't seem to affect it at all. No, Furry 2 gets right back up, unhindered by the rather pointy blade sticking in its chest and it has its claws all over me before I even realize what's happening.  
  
"Hey! That's cheating," I wheedle as the other two grab me from behind and Furry 2 advances slowly. Through the haze of blood loss and exhaustion my brain registers that this fight contradicts everything I know about Beluahs. They are big, dangerous and can be really, really nasty sometimes. They aren't very intelligent, not to say completely dumb and just beat up everything that gets in the way until it gives up or is dead. No big difference from all the other demons out there, really.  
  
But this group here fights controlled, like they have a plan. They aren't killable with a knife- which, by the way, is quite long and perfectly capable of sending annoying demons to hell-, they aren't even injured by it. I mean, hello! Are they on drugs or something? Or perhaps zombies- or Giles was right about that mutation thing.  
  
My last conscious thought is that I'll keep my big mouth shut in the future; then I pass out.  
  
~~~  
  
"Oow," I groan softly and try to curl up into a little ball and die from the pain. I hurt so much, I can't even say which parts of me are still intact and which are not.  
  
"Don't move!" an anxious voice says and I crack one eye open and see Angel hovering over me. I squint at him because he's kind of blurry and notice that the whole Scooby Gang is standing over me. Perfect. This is just what I needed, a new entry on Buffy's List of Embarrassment. This one will make it straight to the Pole Position and stay there for a long time, I think.  
  
"Hi," I croak and lick my swollen lips, "How're you doing?"  
  
"Please tell me she's being funny," Xander huffs, "We're not the ones who got the beating of their lives."  
  
"I'm fine!" I protest and push myself into a sitting position. Angel grabs my left, uninjured shoulder to steady me and I don't have the power to shrug him off.  
  
"Yeah, tell me another one," Faith comes into focus as I slowly stand up, more leaning onto Angel than standing on my own feet.  
  
"How could you be so. stupid? I was in hospital because of these guys! Giles told you that they were invincible! But no, Buffy the Vampire Slayer has to go off and play hero, just to prove that she's the better Chosen One! Or were you just keen on some quality training session with you as the punching bag?"  
  
"Faith, that's quite enough now," Giles intercepts and takes off his glasses, "I believe that Buffy's hardly in the condition for these matters now. We'll talk about this later."  
  
"What's there to talk about?" Xander pipes up and if my body would stop being one big Pain, I'd punch him now.  
  
"Super Slayer here almost got killed, Scooby Gang to the rescue, the demons are dead- let's party!"  
  
"Xander!" Willow hisses softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think it'll be the best if we bring you to the hospital, Buffy."  
  
"No!" I flinch involuntarily and my knees buckle; I clutch Angel firmly to keep from falling.  
  
"No hospital! I'll just get some aspirin and sleep and tomorrow I'll be as good as new. Without hospital."  
  
Did I mention that I hate hospitals? Don't know why, I just do, I wouldn't go to one if my life depended on it. All those nurses and whiteness and fake comforting mood in the waiting room while people are dying in the next room. No thanks.  
  
"I could take her home," Angel says and I look up, surprised.  
  
"To me," he clarifies, "I can disinfect and wrap her wounds. She's a slayer, she'll heal fast."  
  
"I don't know," Giles sighs, "Are you sure that you don't need to go to the hospital, Buffy? You look quite roughed up."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure. Like, one hundred and fifty percent sure. Never been so sure of anything in my life." I mutter and lean a little more on Angel. I guess it would be bad if I passed out right now, huh?  
  
"I'll come by the library tomorrow, okay?"  
  
Angel's chest rumbles against my cheek as he speaks and it's comforting. I could fall asleep; it's safe now. I'm safe now.  
  
"See you tomorrow, then," Faith's voice is far away and kind of hazy.. I don't protest as Angel picks me up and cradles me against his chest as he carries me down the dark streets of Sunnydale. I'm in some weird kind of sleep where you're very, very tired and feel all boneless and puddle-y. Nothing hurts but everything's warm.  
  
I wake up abruptly when something burning is poured on my skin.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
"Sorry," Angel has gotten the remains of my shirt off and leans over my shoulder, trying to disinfect it as gently as possible.  
  
"The pain will pass in a sec."  
  
"I know," I hiss, "I've done this before. Doesn't make it any easier right now though."  
  
"So you get yourself slashed open on a regular basis?"  
  
"Pretty much. Slayer, remember?"  
  
I look around me curiously; this is Angel's apartment. I've never been to a vampire's apartment before. I feel guilty for that thought a second later. Yes, Angel is technically a vampire, but he has a soul- a human one. She he's kind of human. Who drinks blood and has a sun allergy. Yep, that's it.  
  
"But tonight you almost died. You have to be more careful in the future."  
  
I clutch the sheets beneath my hands. They're soft. silk? It somehow fits Angel, like the rest of the room, or that bit I can see anyway. Dark with some small lights on and the seems to be a large bookshelf in the corner.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What?" Angel looks up from the bandage he's wrapping around my shoulder. His cool fingertips caress my bare skin for a moment and I suck in my breath and try to focus on everything else *but* his fingertips.  
  
"What, 'why'?"  
  
"Why be more careful in the future? Doesn't matter if die. I get myself killed, another slayer's called, it's how it works. There's nobody who'd miss me anyway," I finish bitterly and wonder how wallowing in self pity has become a hobby of mine lately.  
  
"Don't say that."  
  
"It's true."  
  
"No. It's not true and you know that, Buffy," he says with conviction, then fixes the bandage with some clasps. His hand lingers shortly on my shoulder, then wanders slowly up my neck and comes to rest on my cheek. It leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake and I could dissolve into a big puddle of goo in the moment when he starts drawing small patterns on my skin.  
  
"I would miss you, Buffy."  
  
The only logical thing to do is to kiss him then, of course. And so my face comes closer to his, my eyes seeking reassurance in his silently. When they find it in these brown orbs I could drown in, they close and my lips touch his hesitantly.  
  
Like when I first looked into Angel's eyes, this moment will stay with me forever, in full Technicolor. I know that I'll always be able to recall the feel of these soft lips; his reflexive breath that tickles just a little and his hands, one resting on my cheek the whole time, the other one drawing me closer to him  
  
This is how it's supposed to be; this is perfect. 


	11. 10 What Else Do I Need

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: Well, there's a spoiler for the end of 'Titanic'. So if you haven't seen that movie (*snorts*) and plan to, you'll be spoiled.  
  
Chapter 10 - What Else Do I Need  
  
*The vampire roared and Buffy bounced back a few steps. She crinkled her nose.  
  
"Geez! Anybody ever tell you that you've got like, really smelly breath? There's stuff against that, you know! Although. your dust won't have use for it."  
  
She advanced and, in a moment of inspiration, did one of those ninja-high- kicks that Thomas had shown her last week. The vampire flew through the air and Buffy grinned widely.  
  
"That worked well, don't you think? Come on, get up, let's try again!"  
  
She held out her hand and the vampire took it, dazzled. Buffy pulled him up and pushed a stake into his chest with her other hand. He exploded into dust.  
  
"Ooops. Sorry."  
  
She looked at the remains of the vampire around her and began to laugh. She raised her head to look up at the stars and yelled, "I'm the queen of the world now, you hear me? Nobody can ever touch me now! Nobody!"*  
  
~~~  
  
I love watching movies. Especially chick-flicks and tearjerkers, the more unrealistic and pink-sugary-smoochy sweet, the better. If anyone would know about this, they'd laugh their butts off- Buffy the Vampire Slayer bawling her eyes out because Jack drowns at the end of 'Titanic' and they don't get to live happily ever after.  
  
So sue me.  
  
Anyway, in most of these movies -nearly all of them- there is The Kiss, with capital letters, mind you. The all-consuming, passionate, we-don't- need-to-breathe kiss that changes everything, accompanied by sappy music and angels ringing the wedding bells in the background. But never, ever did these films mention the embarrassing awkwardness that comes right after the gasping-for-air part.  
  
In Angel's and my case, I was so stunned by my own actions -I kissed Angel! Kissed! Like in the lips-touched, tongues-mating sense!- that I almost stormed out of his apartment, of course completely oblivious of the fact that I wore nothing except for my pants and my bra. Angel caught me in time and gave me one of his shirts- black, definitely oversized and, oh my God, silk. That I didn't die on the spot then and there still amazes me. He tried to convince me to stay because I was still injured and exhausted and all that crap- needless to say that I didn't stay because I would have jumped him then, consequences be damned.  
  
No, instead I spend the night in my cold motel bed, snuggled up in his shirt and bathing in his scent. I didn't sleep a bit, called in sick at work and dreamed of Angel sweeping me off my feet for the rest of the day. Pathetic, I know.  
  
I'm re-playing the big kissing scene for what must be the hundredth time when somebody knocks on the door. I'm not in the mood to answer- still dreaming here, you see- but then I hear the voice I longed to hear all day call out, "Buffy? Are you there?"  
  
Angel. Angel, Angel, Angel, Angel. Angel!  
  
I just want to open the door and throw myself into his arms- but Be- Careful!Buffy spoils the fun, as always. I somehow managed to shut her up for the last day, but now she screams with full force at me, reminding me of the last disasters calling themselves boyfriends. They were either completely nuts, cheated on me, dumped me in public or- my favorite- stole all my hard-earned money. All of them were never to be seen again and I have to agree with Be-Careful!Buffy that relationships and me are generally un-mixy things. Actually, all things concerning guys and me. Kissing doesn't necessary result in a relationship. And I don't know Angel that well. Perhaps he was thinking about somebody else when he kissed me. Or he hasn't been getting any for too long and is desperate to get laid. Or. the list just goes on and on.  
  
Be-Careful!Buffy nods satisfied when I open the door and face Angel with a rather indifferent expression.  
  
"Oh, it's you."  
  
He smiles and mutters something about wanting to check if I was okay. I'm too focused on keeping my eyes away from his extremely kissable mouth to listen to him.  
  
"What?" I pry my eyes loose from my target as it's been closed for awhile and will myself not to blush.  
  
"Have you even been listening?"  
  
I can see the smile playing around his lips and my face must be the color of a tomato now.  
  
"Sure! I was all-attentive-Buffy, you know, completely with the listening."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So. what was the question again?"  
  
"Do your wounds heal alright? Did you change the bandages?"  
  
Angel probably thinks that I'm an imbecile now, with the blushing, blabbering nonsense and whatnot. Be-Careful!Buffy cheers loudly right now and I mentally punch her on the nose and tell her to shut the hell up. Being indifferent towards a guy you're definitely interested in is acceptable. Being a stuttering idiot is not.  
  
"Uh. yeah. I think," I say and begin to play with the hem of my- oh gosh, I'm still wearing Angel's shirt. I haven't taken it off for the whole day and I haven't even thought about changing the bandages- my shoulder will be healed by now. I doesn't hurt anymore, so.  
  
"You think? You did change them, right?"  
  
"Um- yes! You don't need to be all worried, it was just a scratch. I'm all good and functional again."  
  
He stares at my hands for a few moments, then looks away. I realize that my knuckles are still scraped and bloody- proof that I am not all peachy like I pretend to be.  
  
"That's good."  
  
"Is there anything else? 'Cause I was going to patrol and I don't want the vamps having to wait for me."  
  
"You're patrolling tonight?"  
  
I shrug and Angel looks at me like I'm out of my mind. Which I probably am, I'll admit that. But hey, I stayed in bed for the better part of the day, if I don't kill something soon, I'll be crawling up the walls.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Alone? After what happened yesterday?"  
  
"What do you want me to do? Stay home and lick my wounds? Letting people die 'cause I lost against a couple of demons the other night?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Forget it, Angel. I'm going."  
  
"Then I'll come with you."  
  
"No!"  
  
That came out a bit sharper than I intended, I know. But I already have enough impure thoughts about Angel as it is- I don't need to see him fighting, too; all tall and lean and powerful, graceful like a big cat- you get the picture.  
  
"Buffy, I won't let you going out there alone tonight."  
  
His tone tells me the same, that it's futile to argue with him, 'cause he's made up his mind and it'll take more than a vampire slayer to convince him otherwise. My shoulders slump and I throw up my hands in defeat.  
  
"Fine," I huff, "Wait a moment, I'll be ready in a sec."  
  
I shut the door in his face with a little more force than is necessary- stupid, stubborn vampire!- and slip into my jeans. I'm reluctant to take his shirt off, but it'll be a tiny bit suspicious if I let it on and after a small oh-God-I-have-nothing-to-wear crisis, I settle on a simple green tank top of which I know that it brings out the color of my eyes. Sarcastic!Buffy pipes up that it's too dark to see the color of my eyes and why would I want Angel to pay attention to my appearance anyway?, but I use the same method on her that already worked with Be-Careful!Buffy. I'm probably the biggest fan denial ever had. If denial were a band, I'd be like, the super-groupie.  
  
"Okay, let's go," I say to Angel who's waiting for me patiently and we fall into stride next to each other. He says nothing, I say nothing, and the awkwardness between us could be sliced to peaces and sold as cake.  
  
"How did you kill the Beluah?" I ask abruptly, just to say something, anything, "I mean, I was kind of too passed out to notice what was going on."  
  
"After you left the library, Giles found out that Beluahs don't have any relatives or mutations. He thought that there was perhaps a spell behind it, to make them stronger and seemingly invincible. Willow and Jenny performed a general spell to lift all other existing spells on the Beluah and Faith and me killed them. We arrived just in time- a few minutes later and you'd been."  
  
"Dead," I finish the sentence for him and sigh. "Do you know who did the spell to make them extra non-killable?"  
  
"No. That's a mystery Giles is trying to solve."  
  
"Perhaps someone who wants to get rid of us pesky slayers?" I think out loudly.  
  
"Or just someone who likes to fiddle with spell books and magic," Angel says, "But we don't know anything yet."  
  
"You'll give me the update when the Watch-man has found something in his dust catchers? 'Cause I don't plan on talking to the Scooby Gang anytime soon."  
  
We enter a graveyard and I glance around to see if there's creepy-crawlies in sight.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I just don't feel like talking to them. And I think the feeling's mutual."  
  
"But you don't know that."  
  
"Can we just change the topic?" I snap, "I just want to. want to forget yesterday night. Pretend that it never happened."  
  
"Oh," is all that Angel says but I can see that I've hurt him.  
  
I hurry to explain, "The part with the demon-fighting and getting the crap beat out of me. The part after that was." I hesitate shortly, not sure if it's wise to say it, "pretty unforgettable."  
  
"You mean when we kissed?"  
  
My breath speeds up as he stops walking and approaches me until our faces are only inches apart. I smile widely, suddenly incredibly happy.  
  
"Yeah. the part with the kissing. That earned yesterday night definitely a brownie point."  
  
"So." Angel whispers in my ear and I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself against his taller body, "Would you care for a repeat performance?"  
  
His hands roam over my back and my reply rings softly through the silent graveyard.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
~~~  
  
After that kiss, which, by the way, was even more mind-blowing than the first one- if that's even possible- I feel like I've stepped out of Buffy's Bizarro World and right into the Buffy & Angel 4-eva Fairy Tale. I mean, whoa. When I'm not working or sleeping, I'm with Angel, like, always. Most of the time we patrol, or pretend to patrol, anyway. I'd call it make-out sessions in the graveyard while hoping that no vamps will show up and spoil the fun. Or we. do stuff. We actually talk. A lot. About everything -my life, his life- I learned more from him about history than I ever did in school- slaying, even Britney Spears. We're both convinced that she's a nasty demon bitch from hell.  
  
We've been together in the boyfriend/girlfriend smoochy sense for a little over three weeks now and I feel like I've known Angel forever.  
  
And each night, after a lingering goodbye kiss, I've got this incredibly goofy smile on my face and can't wait for another night to fall so I can see him again. It's almost scary how attached I've become to him in such a short time. It's like, nothing even really exists except him, and nothing's important when he's not with me. Earning money to leave SunnyD, trouble with Faith and tagalongs? Like I care.  
  
Oh yeah, I've fallen and I've fallen hard. Although I've never thought that this would happen to me, of all people. To Buffy, the freak. To Buffy, who dresses like a little slut, who has a calling instead of friends, and even that was a screw-up. To Buffy, who does nothing right, but everything wrong. Well, guess what? I'll do it right this time. Because. because I've got the feeling that we're just meant to be. How couldn't we? Angel's a vampire. I'm a slayer; it's my duty to slay his kind and dance on the ashes. If that's not star-crossed lovers and film material, what else is?  
  
Okay, shutting up now.  
  
I left work early today, 'cause I want to surprise Angel with a special Buffy wake-up call that'll hopefully involve kissing and. other stuff. Like more kissing. My boss had murder in the eyes when I took off and I have the feeling that he's about to fire me- but that's all right because being fired leads right to more Angel quality time and that's a good thing, right? Who needs money, anyway.  
  
Skipping down the stairs to Angel's apartment, I take out a little mirror to make sure my appearance is perfect. There's nothing more embarrassing than funky hair or something stuck between your teeth when meeting your boyfriend. I never cared about that sort of stuff before, but somehow it's now become top priority. Shesh. I dig through my pocket for my lip gloss- strawberry taste, yum- when I catch voices on the other end of the door.  
  
Eavesdropping is a bad thing, no need to tell me that, but I just can't help myself and step nearer. Angel never gets visitors, well, except for me and the sun hasn't even set yet- who in their right mind would visit him? I'm the exception, 'cause I have the girlfriend-right which includes seeing him at any time of the day.  
  
"What do you want do say with that?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
I groan audibly as I recognize the voice belonging to the person I took an effort to ignore for the last weeks. Faith. What the hell is she doing in Angel's apartment?  
  
"Nothing?" I hear Angel say and press my ear against the wood. Slayer hearing sure is handy right now.  
  
"It's- I saw you in the graveyard last night. With Buffy," Faith says and I roll my eyes. Was she spying on us or what? Doesn't she have better things to do, vampires to slay, apocalypses to avert?  
  
"So?"  
  
"Kissing," she clarifies and she hits Giles' disapproving tone dead on.  
  
"And. you have a problem with that, don't you?"  
  
"Yes! I mean, no! I was just surprised, I guess. You and. Buffy," she sounds like she's tripping over my name and I imagine her face scrunched up in disgust. That's gotta be hard for her, her long-time buddy making out with a screw-up like me.  
  
"You're not around anymore and when I see you again, you're- I mean, why didn't you tell us? Or me? I thought we were friends, Angel."  
  
And here the whining starts. Pressing my lips together, I just wish that he'd kick Faith out already and be done with it.  
  
"We are."  
  
"But friends see each other! And they tell each other important stuff, such as being all boyfriend-ly with the resident leather pants fascist!"  
  
"Don't talk about her like that," Angel sighs and I mentally scream at him. Don't talk about her like that? That's all he has to say? Faith's got a point but- Don't talk about her like that?! He and I are going to have a talk about this little episode.  
  
"It's true. So, is she your girlfriend? In the traditional sense of the word?"  
  
Short silence in which I ball my hands to fists and am about to scream out of frustration. Why doesn't he say anything? What's there to hesitate about? I clearly remember last night- the way Angel's dark eyes sparkled as he held me in his arms, and how silky his mouth felt on my ear as he whispered a love poem to me. We kissed for like, eternity and he's hesitating about whether I'm his girlfriend 'in the traditional sense of the word' or not. My heart clenches and my fingernails leave little bloody half-moons on my palm as I wait for his answer.  
  
"I'm asking again, would that be a problem for you?"  
  
"Angel, no- but- but she isn't good for you, trust me on this. I- I- you don't even know her- and-"  
  
I don't stay to hear the rest of Faith's Buffy's-Bad-Speech. Stumbling up the stairs I skipped down just a few minutes ago, I feel like someone punched me in the gut a couple of times.  
  
I don't have a problem with the fact that Faith thinks me bad for Angel. It's probably even true.  
  
But damn, he never even said that I'm his girlfriend. Didn't have the balls. Fucking coward.  
  
See, that's another thing the movies don't show. The gut-wrenching, being ripped out of the wonderland, waking up in reality part. Should have known there's no such thing as relationship-y happiness for me.  
  
~~~  
  
((It won't rain all the time.))  
  
I'm in the Bronze, swaying slowly to the sad tune that I know and somehow don't know, making small steps in the arms of my Angel. I smile at him and he smiles back at me- but it's a small, sad smile, just like the music we're dancing by.  
  
"It won't be your fault, you know."  
  
((The sky won't fall forever.))  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just do what you have to do, Buffy," Angel murmurs and presses a kiss to my forehead, "I'll always love you."  
  
"But sometimes that isn't enough."  
  
I turn around and see Thomas standing at the door, holding it open. I can see that it leads into the darkness of the night and I draw back, suddenly scared. I don't want to go out there. My watcher continues, "You have to remember. It's important."  
  
"Remember what?" I ask, confused and want to step back into Angel's embrace- but he's gone.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"They took my angel away from me, too," Thomas says softly, "Nobody heard her screams. Nobody cared. You have to remember that."  
  
Something weighs heavily in my hand, but I don't look down to see what it is. It's something bad, something terrible, just as dark and dangerous as that what's lurking outside the door.  
  
"Rise and shine, lover."  
  
And then I wake up. 


	12. 11 Temptation

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 11 - Temptation  
  
*She sat on the swing and watched the stars when Thomas found her. Quietly, he sat next to her on the too small swing and for a little while the only sounds were that of a normal night in Los Angeles. Finally, Buffy broke the silence between them.  
  
"Sorry that I ran off like that. I just needed some fresh air."  
  
"It's alright, Buffy. I did jump you with this whole affair after all.."  
  
Buffy began to swing tentatively and remembered a time when she'd watched the other kids doing this with their parents while she'd stood by.  
  
"So, what's she's like?"  
  
"Faith? I don't know, I never met the girl. The Council didn't tell me much, except that she died, but came back to life with the help of her friends. She lives on the hellmouth, with her watcher."  
  
"Must be exciting."  
  
"Probably."  
  
She swung higher and higher, until she had the feeling that her feet could touch the stars, somehow. Then Buffy somersaulted off the swing in high air to impress her watcher and smiled at him.  
  
"Let's go home."*  
  
~~~  
  
"You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Ah yes, Buffy, sit down, please," Giles gestures at a chair and I plop down on it, yawning widely just to show him that I don't care that called me to the library for 'something important'. Which I don't, just to make that clear. I don't care much for anything these days.  
  
"As you certainly know, it's your birthday in a few weeks and you'll be eighteen, a crucial age for a slayer."  
  
I snort, twisting one of my locks with my fingers. Perhaps I should cut my hair. Or dye it. Black. Or green? Something ugly, something screaming 'I don't give a damn!' at the world loudly. The goldilocks-look is so not made for that.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Your point is?"  
  
"It's, am, the time to begin a new stage in your training, which, by the way, has been really neglected lately."  
  
"Been busy."  
  
"As I was saying, this new stage includes new exercises such as meditating with some, am, gemstones. here."  
  
Giles opens a small box to reveal some glittery stones and I sit up abruptly. Wait a minute.  
  
"You have to concentrate on their structure-"  
  
"Why isn't Faith doing this?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
I stand up and cross my arms. I remember the dream I had just a few hours ago, Thomas telling me to remember, telling me that they took his 'angel' away from him, too. An I remember. My ass, I do.  
  
"Why isn't Faith doing this meditation crap? She's been the slayer longer than me and she's never told me anything about the structures of gemstones being part of her training."  
  
Giles takes off his glasses and searches absentmindedly for something to clean them with. "But she is younger than you. This training has been developed specifically for slayers soon to be eighteen. She'll undergo the same training in a few months."  
  
"That's crap, and you know it."  
  
"Excuse me?" He puts his glasses back on and stares at me.  
  
"Watcher, let me tell you a little story."  
  
I begin to pace around the room, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.  
  
"You knew my watcher? Thomas?"  
  
"N-no, I didn't, I'm sorry," he says, confused.  
  
I shrug, "Anyway. So, he had a twin sister, Rose. When they were about two years old, there were some nice old gentlemen knocking on their parents' door. Turns out the gentlemen were watchers and they wanted to take Rose, 'cause she was one of the few probably-to-be-chosen chicks."  
  
I wander to the counter and look through a stack of books while avoiding directly looking at Giles.  
  
"Her parents said no to the whole taking-her-away thing though. Rose was trained to be a slayer, but she lived with her family. And really, one day, bang! super-strength and she could kick vampire ass for real. Her watcher moved in her house, hung around her 24/7 from then, became a part of the family and apocalypses came and went peacefully until one day shortly before her 18th birthday, this watcher pulled the whole new-stage-of- training-gig on her."  
  
"You wanna know how the story ends, Giles?"  
  
He raises a brow, "I'm sure you will tell me."  
  
"But you already know it, right? Rose died on her 18th birthday because she couldn't defend herself against that vampire that her watcher had locked her up with after he'd stolen all her strength and powers. She died during the Cruciamentum," I spit the word out like it's something very nasty and disgusting, which it really is, after all.  
  
"So," I spread my arms out wide, "is that your brand-new exercise? Inject Buffy with some drug so she'll be eaten by the evil vampire later?"  
  
"I." he seems to be at a loss for words and I rave right on, too mad about him, too mad about Angel being a bastard, too mad about anything to notice that I'm shouting, "Well, tell you what! You're not my watcher! And you can take your Cruciamentum and all the other sick little tests you got planned out and shove them up your ass! I don't work for you and I don't work for the Council anymore either! You screw with my life again and again and then you kill me off? Great plan. Wonder how Faith will react when you try to murder her, too."  
  
"Buffy, this is my duty, it wasn't a personal choice- I wish I could-"  
  
"You wish what?"  
  
Suddenly all my energy's gone, all my energy to be mad and scream. I'm tired now. I just want to sleep and not wake up for a very long time.  
  
I chuckle but it sounds more like a sob and I decide to get the hell out of dodge before the sob-like sound can turn into a real one, which would lead to crying, and I won't do that. I never do that.  
  
"It doesn't matter. Tell the council that I'm done with them. I'm done with all of you!"  
  
I storm out of the library and a part of my still functional brain muses over my ever-present ability to make a spectacular exit.  
  
Once outside of the school I take a deep breath and look around. Nobody's in sight- that's clear 'cause lunch break hasn't started yet, but there's no cars passing on the streets either and for a moment I live in the bizarre illusion that I'm all alone and that there's no other human being in the world than me. Which is, of course, nonsense, but still- I can't shake off that feeling completely. I look at the sky which is to my surprise not nauseatingly sunny and blue, but gray and looks just as depressing as my mood.  
  
~~~  
  
The rain is pouring down on me when Angel finds me.  
  
I sit on a park bench in the middle of the night, which would be a sure one- way ticket to victims-for-vampires land for a normal person. But I'm not a normal person and so I can sit on a park bench trying to count the rain drops falling on my nose at 11 p.m. without getting snacked on. I close my eyes for a second and when I open them again, Angel's looming over me.  
  
I blink. "Hi."  
  
He, in turn, grips my arms so tightly that I almost wince and shakes me.  
  
"Buffy, where have you been?"  
  
I blink again and sit slowly upright, shaking his hands off.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"What do I-" he stops and stares at me like I'm some rare, extra-exotic animal in a zoo that's just stuck out his tongue at the gaping visitors.  
  
"Are you serious? You- you just disappeared for three days- we turned Sunnydale upright down!- and you aren't at home, or at work and everybody's been worried and you have-" he takes a deep breath, more to calm himself, I guess, 'cause he doesn't really needs to breathe after all, "You have the nerve to ask me 'What I mean'?"  
  
For Angel, that's quite a speech. And with so much emotion, too. Still, I'm not in the mood to be mollycoddled by some- some vampire who didn't even have the guts to admit that I'm his girlfriend.  
  
"Chill! I'm just peachy, as you can see, I just needed some time away from old SunnyD, that's all."  
  
"And you couldn't have told someone of your plans? You should have seen Faith, she's barely slept-"  
  
"Bullshit," I interrupt him bluntly, " I doubt that my sis' would've even noticed me being AWOL if her watcher hadn't called in a Scooby-Emergency- Meeting for Members Only the minute I stepped out of that dusty library of his."  
  
By Angel's look, I can tell that I'm right. I slowly stand up, pick up the small back containing all my personal stuff and sling it over my shoulder. I continue, while trying stubbornly to ignore how sexy and downright edible he looks with his hair wet from the rain and the glistening black coat, "And, as I already told the Watch-Man, I work for nobody but for myself. If I decide to skip town for a few days, he's the last person who'd get a 'See you soon' card."  
  
He looks at his feet and his voice sounds very soft as he asks, "And what about me?"  
  
"You!" I put all my anger in that one word; anger which is not all even directed at Angel. No, a good part of that is dedicated solely to Giles, that damn Council of Watchers and the world in general.  
  
"You!" I repeat again and resist the urge to stomp my feet like a five year old.  
  
"To be perfectly honest with you, I didn't think you'd give a flying fuck about where I was, not more that the Dream Team itself. I mean, if you're not sure that I'm your girlfriend, then what am I to you after all, Angel? A casual acquaintance? A fellow soldier in the everlasting, epic war against Evil? Or just someone to have fun with during otherwise boring patrols?"  
  
Angel looks at me like I've sprouted a second, extra-slimy pink head and I cross my arms and glare back defiantly.  
  
"What," he eventually says softly, "makes you think that you're not my," he hesitates shortly, "my girlfriend?"  
  
He says that one word as if it's something delicate that could break at the slightest motion; and I can't help it- my anger's suddenly gone and so is any desire to fight with Angel. I just want to turn back time a little, before Giles's phone call, before Faith's visit and kiss him.  
  
"I-" I begin. Then, deciding that me being able to turn back time isn't going to happen anytime soon and that I'd really like to kiss Angel right now, I skip the explanations and excuses, launch myself at him and start kissing him like there's no tomorrow.  
  
Angel wraps his arms automatically around me and leans down to meet my lips. In between nipping his bottom lip and tracing it with my tongue- oh, it's been far too long since I've been able to do that- I mutter a soft "I'm sorry" and although it must have been almost impossible to hear it, he seems to understand me 'cause he tightens his arms around me and smiles a little.  
  
~~~  
  
Coming out of the bathroom, I throw a towel at Angel and plop down on the bed.  
  
"Sorry, it's the last one."  
  
"It's okay," he mutters and takes off his coat which is soaking wet. I imagine that we both look more like drowned rats than anything else right now.  
  
I pat on the spot on the bed next to me, "C'mere."  
  
Angel obediently sits down and I tug at his shirt. He gives me and almost panicked look and I have to suppress a grin, "I'm not going to jump you or anything, I just want to gawk at your perfect body while pretending to dry you off."  
  
"Well, in that case." he smiles and starts unbuttoning his shirt, "Buffy, can we- can we resume where you kind of interrupted? Not that I minded that very much," he adds hastily.  
  
I sigh; should have known that this kind of diversion tactic would be only a temporary success.  
  
"I. when Faith was at your apartment warning you about the dangers of dating SunnyD's second slayer, I was-"  
  
"Eavesdropping?" he finishes for me and I shake my head in indignation, "No! Well- not really, I just happened to stand in front of your door. I can't be blamed for having super-hearing, can I? It was all the fault of your walls, I mean, if they'd been thicker." I trail off, fully aware of the fact that I'm babbling.  
  
"I- when Faith said all those, those things about me and you didn't say anything and- and I know that she's probably right, but," I swallow to make the lump in my throat disappear, "I was just mad at you in that moment, you know? Blame it on screwed up slayer hormones or something."  
  
"Hey," Angel embraces me so that my head's buried against his shoulder and starts stroking my back, "It's alright that you were mad, it's my fault. I acted like an idiot with Faith. But here she was, standing on my doorstep in the middle of the day and with this speech probably mapped out in her head. I'm sorry I hurt you, Buffy."  
  
He slowly kisses my forehead, gently, then my nose and mouth. I cuddle up against him, not caring very much about Faith anymore.  
  
"It's 'k," I mumble, "if I can make a sign saying "Buffy's my girlfriend!" in neon printing that you have to wear around your neck day and night."  
  
Angels smiles, "If you wear a similar sign around your neck."  
  
Then he's serious again, "Was that why you ran away?"  
  
"I didn't run away;" I protest half-heartedly, beginning to feel very warm and cozy and just plain perfect, "I took a vacation! And no, that's not why," I sigh and look out of the window; it's pitch black outside.  
  
"Have you heard of a thing called the 'Cruciamentum'?" I ask Angel.  
  
He shrugs, "Yes. Rumor has it that it's an ancient test for slayers. Most of them die in the process, but that's all I know."  
  
"It's not so ancient. Giles wanted to put me through it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah," I say, trying to sound indifferent, "Imagine my surprise when the Watch-Man called me, sounding twice as stuffy as usual. He blabbed something about a new phase of my training- training, my ass!- and then tried to hypnotize me."  
  
At Angel's questioning look, I explain, "He would've injected me with some drug- it would've taken all my shiny super-powers away. The actual test is the big birthday surprise from the Council with love. You get locked in a house with a vampire and have to kill him. Somehow. If you do, goody for you, if not." I raise my eyebrows and smile bitterly, "then on with the show and a new slayer. So you understand now why I blew up at the Watch-Man and my need for some time off, don't you?"  
  
Angel doesn't say anything for a while, just sort of clutches me in his arms like I could evaporate if he doesn't pay attention. His voice sounds choked, "Giles- *Giles* tried to do this?"  
  
"Yeah," I say, "he was fulfilling his duty as a watcher. He'd be fired if he didn't do it."  
  
"But- how did you know?"  
  
"My watcher told me," I say, not wanting to tell the whole drama again, "He- well, he didn't really play by the rules, you know? But hey, something good comes out of this- you can tell Faith, 'cause she'll want to survive her 18th birthday, too."  
  
"Yes," he sighs, "Buffy, I'm so glad that you're alright."  
  
I'm flattered, I gotta admit that. Up to this point, I've had exactly one person who really cared about me- I like that feeling. I like Angel's voice when he says that; that voice has the ability to turn my knees into goo and to throw Be-Careful!Buffy right out of the window.  
  
I sit up slowly and let my fingers trail across his chest. He sucks in an unnecessary breath when I start kissing my way up to his mouth and thankfully doesn't resist when I push him back so that we both lie on the bed now. He's still got his arms wrapped around me and they slowly start exploring the skin underneath my tank top.  
  
Smiling against Angel's mouth, I begin fumbling with the zipper of his pants, when he suddenly grabs my wrists.  
  
"Buffy." he swallows and I can look into his dark brown eyes and see myself reflected in them, "Are you- sure? I mean-"  
  
I interrupt him gently by batting his hands away and kissing him again. This is not sudden; it's not rushed. Ever since I first kissed Angel, I wanted him- I wanted and want him to be mine and I want to be as close to him as I can possibly get and now, though not planned at all, is the perfect time for it.  
  
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." 


	13. 12 Land of Shame

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 12 - Land of Shame  
  
*"And you're absolutely sure that *this*," Buffy made a sweeping gesture around her, "will help us to catch the latest nasty?"  
  
Thomas couldn't suppress a sigh as he looked around the room himself. It was crowded, and on the stage stood a rather Fyarl demon butchering 'We Can Work It Out' in his own language.  
  
"No, I'm not sure. A contact of mine got me this address. He said that we should ask the, ah, the Host if we needed help with a special case. I'd say that our current monster of the week qualifies as a special case, don't you think?"  
  
Buffy thought of the two victims brutally murdered and nodded.  
  
"But does it have to be a demon karaoke bar? What kind of a name is 'Caritas' anyway?"*  
  
~~~  
  
The rain has to have stopped sometime during the night, 'cause I wake up with the sun shining fully in my face. I sneeze, open my eyes and blink into the bright room.  
  
The events of the night rush back and I smile at the mental image of Angel's face as he entered me for the first time; the face of someone who's just been granted the biggest wish of his life. Smiling, I turn around, hoping to see him still asleep- I bet he looks just adorable when he sleeps- but find the spot next to me empty.  
  
Weird.  
  
Perhaps he's in the shower? I slowly get up and pad over to the bathroom, but even before I open the door I know that it's empty- except for my breathing, the room is completely silent.  
  
I turn around, surveying the room- it's a total chaos because my bag's fallen off the bed sometime during our activities and spilled its content all over the floor; but Angel's coat is still thrown over the chair where he put it last night; his boots lie in one corner of the room to where I threw them and his shirt's lying half-buried under a pillow. The only thing that's gone are his pants.  
  
Frowning, I take a peek out of the window- it's gotta be almost noon- perhaps he took off when he sensed the sun coming up? But why did he only put his jeans on, and not the rest? Was he in such a hurry? But he could just have drawn the curtains and stayed. I know it's probable futile, but I search the room for a note from him nevertheless- nothing. And I know it's even more futile, but I call out anyway.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
~~~  
  
After a quick shower and no breakfast, I slam the door to the motel room shut and head straight to Angel's apartment. I mean, it's no biggie, waking up the morning after to find your boy-toy gone- but Angel's no boy-toy, he's my boyfriend. I said it. Angel's my boyfriend and even if he's got that pesky skin condition of his, he can write, can't he? A note or something like that would have been nice. Still, I'm not mad at him, though that would classify as my normal reaction in a situation like that. No, my present feeling could be described as 'concerned', I guess- 'cause I know Angel, at least a little bit and he's definitely not the wham, bam, thank you m'am type. Not Angel.  
  
My feeling of concern increases even more as I reach his apartment and find that the door's wide open.  
  
"Angel?" I almost scream his name, stepping into the room. It's dark and in the moment before switching on the light, I have a vision of him coming out of his bedroom, all groggy and with his hair tousled from sleeping, and he smiles and kisses me and apologizes for leaving- the light illuminates the apartment and the sick feeling in my stomach doesn't settle in because I'm hungry.  
  
The room's completely empty of any of Angel's stuff.  
  
~~~  
  
How I found the way back to my motel will always stay a mystery to me, because I sure as hell don't remember me walking back there. I apparently found the way alright 'cause I suddenly find myself staring at my door. I slowly fish the key out of my pocket and open it. The room smells of wet clothes and sex- not really a pleasant mix, especially now when the post- coital-afterglow bubble has burst. I open the window and sit slowly on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.  
  
What the hell is going on?  
  
I mean- he can't- Angel can't just disappear, can he? Of course he can't, that's impossible, and yet there's no trace of him but his clothes lying strewn around in this room. If not for them, I could think that I dreamed the whole thing and that he never existed- that's what his apartment says after all. Sure, the bed and the bookshelves, all that stuff's still there, but everything else- his books, his clothes, even the damn mug he used to drink blood from are gone. Poof.  
  
Gone. Gone, gone, gonefuckinggone.  
  
This is so not happening.  
  
Groaning, I bury my face in my hands and suppress the desire to destroy something.  
  
I must have fallen asleep again, 'cause when I open my eyes it's dark outside and I lie curled up on the bed- that bed which holds good memories of last night but that I've grown to despise in an amazingly short time. I get up and search the room for some stakes. Screw Angel, I tell myself, he's gone, so what? Just 'cause one vamp disappears without a trace doesn't mean that the rest of them will do the same. I'm going to kill a few and then I'll feel better. Let off some steam. Right.  
  
And perhaps, just perhaps, I'll find Angel, improbable as that is.  
  
I wander slowly through the graveyards, not even attempting to sense vampires- they'll come on their own. It's surely just my imagination, but it's damn cold tonight and I wrap my arms around myself as I cross Sunny Rest. If Angel was here now he'd give me his coat. I stop that train of thought before it leaves station- "If"-sentences never lead far after all. He'll show up again. He has to. Perhaps he moved while I was gone and just forgot to tell me. And I could always ask Faith and the others.  
  
Although I really don't want to do that. What I want is to forget that there's another slayer than me. And at the moment I'd rather bite my tongue off than to ask her or the Watch-Man for help.  
  
I shut the gate behind me and cross the street when I hear someone screaming in the distance and shortly after that a voice calling for help. I take off in the direction of the voice and find myself in a dark alley where a couple of vampires have apparently decided to interrupt a couple in whatever they were doing- though the open blouse of the girl is quite an indicator to what that was- to grab a quick bite.  
  
Well, not if I have to say something about that.  
  
"Hey guys!" I call out to draw their attention to me and slowly take out two stakes. I take aim, throw one stake and watch satisfied as it buries itself directly in one vamp's heart- he explodes into dust immediately and that seems to be the sure sign of attack for all the other ones, 'cause they lunge at me all at once.  
  
I smile grimly and throw myself into the fight.  
  
~~~  
  
I feel a bit more like myself again after I stake all of those bastards. The couple even managed to mutter a hasty "thanks" before taking off rather abruptly- which didn't surprise me very much 'cause that's normal. People seem to think I'm more dangerous to them than the vampires. Heh. What a joke. They never run from Superman and he can destroy a car while sneezing. The world's unfair.  
  
Whatever. I don't encounter any more vampires, though I check all of the cemeteries, which is a pity 'cause I'm really all warmed up and itching for a fight now. I pushed all the thoughts of Angel back into a drawer of my mind labeled 'Not worth my attention' and although that strategy usually works just fine, tonight it's failing miserably.  
  
After making a third sweep through Restfield, I give up, a bit unnerved and head back to my motel. Seems there's nothing else to do but to sleep and hope that I won't dream of him. Halfway through the now deserted Main Street I stop suddenly dead in my tracks and concentrate. I could've sworn that there was something lurking in the shadows just a moment ago. but the tingle disappears before I can grasp it and shrugging, I resume my way. I'm so winded up I'd probably stake a cat if it so much as meowed menacingly.  
  
I'm kind of glad when my temporary home's in sight. Yeah, I know I slept half of the day away, but I'm still tired- not really in my body, but in my mind, if that makes sense. But sleeping is the perfect opportunity not to think. I open the door, switch on the lights and jerk my head up at the same moment 'cause something's not right.  
  
And freeze.  
  
This isn't real, a panicked voice in my head babbles, this ain't real, Buffy, that's a class A nightmare and c'mon Buffy, wake up, wake up.  
  
I slowly take a step into the room and clasp my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. There, on the bed- on my fucking bed- lies the couple I saved earlier tonight.  
  
Naked.  
  
Dead.  
  
I can see that guy's face- his expression is. his eyes are closed and his head stands in a weird angle to the rest of his body- his neck's broken, the little voice whispers in my head. Broken like a child's toy, somebody was careless here. he's lying half atop of the girl, his arms wrapped around her, his twisted head resting on her naked breast. The girl's eyes are shut, too and her neck's also broken, my registers absentmindedly.  
  
The look like two lovers resting after making love. Like two lovers basking in the afterglow. Except that they're broken and they're dead and they'll never make out in dark alleys again.  
  
A breath hitches in my throat and although I haven't eaten anything today my stomach churns. I take a stumbling step back, then another out of the room and then I trip, fall flat on my butt, roll somehow over and vomit.  
  
My eyes are wide open but unseeing as I empty the meager contents of my stomach on the street and though soon I'm only coughing, when I think that the both of them will never open their eyes again, I begin to retch again. My stomach and my throat start to hurt, but I can't help it- I half sit, half lie there on the concrete floor in front of my motel room's door and fuck it, that situation's just too screwed up for words.  
  
I'm still retching when there's suddenly a cool hand stroking over my back and gently taking my hair out of my face and putting it into a ponytail.  
  
"Sssh." a soft voice says, "It's alright, Buffy, everything's alright now."  
  
Sweet nonsense that's comforting nevertheless and when I finally look up from the floor after what seems like a very long time, I stare into Angel's dark eyes.  
  
"Here." He holds out a wet cloth to me and I accept it gratefully and wipe my face and mouth with it. I'm cold now, and numb, and I know that I should wonder why he's turned up apparently out of thin air, but I don't. I'm just happy that he's here now, here, and he'll wake me up from this nightmare.  
  
I wrap my arms around him and bury my head against his chest. He smells like him, like home. My voice is muffled against the soft fabric of his shirt.  
  
"I was going nuts when you weren't there this morning, Angel. I thought something had happened to you and now. now this."  
  
Like he did last night, Angel first kisses my forehead, then, lying a cold finger under my chin and lifting my head up, he kisses my nose and finally my mouth.  
  
He smiles and in that moment I sense that something's off. Something's not quite right about him. His voice is very soft and silky as he whispers, "Yes, and now this. Come," he grabs my hands and pulls me up and my knees buckle a bit but he doesn't seem to notice.  
  
Both of us are standing now in front of the room and I look down at my shoes. I never want to enter that room again.  
  
"Look," Angel whispers, and I can't help but think that he sounds like a kid who's just built a gigantic sand castle, "Do you see the beauty of it?"  
  
I jerk back but he grips my arms and doesn't let go. He smiles again and now there's now talking around it- that smile's feral. I begin to tremble, slowly, the truth beginning to sink in, but I don't understand- I don't want to understand, this is Angel! Angel, the vampire with a soul who'd never harm a fly- Angel. But still, I don't say anything; all I do is to stare at his face and his eyes that have always kept me in their thrall with their warmth. Now they're dark and- dead, the voice in my head shrieks gleefully, dead! Dead like that couple that's rotting away in your room even now.  
  
"The- beauty-" I stumble over that word; my voice croaks and it hurts to speak. Everything's starting to hurt and I lick my dry lips but only makes it worse. "The beauty? Angel, what is up with you? Are you- are you alright?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm alright, don't worry, lover," Angel seems to spit that word out and I flinch. His grip on my arms gets stronger and I squirm a little. He mocks me, "I thought you'd be happy about my gift! After all that trouble I went through to kill the both of them- I even left them their delicious, red blood! All as a gift from me to you, Buff, to always remind you of," his voice drops to a whisper, "last night. I have to say, you were good. It's true what they say, you know? Experience makes all the difference. And someone who's had as much experience as you've had."  
  
"You're nuts," I hiss at him, "You're fucking nuts!"  
  
Angel's last words seem to have roused me out of my stupor 'cause now I free myself of his grip with one quick move and lay all my shock and anger into the punch that I deliver straight to his nose. I whip out a stake out of my waistband and raise it.  
  
"Fuck off!" I scream at Angel, whose nose is bleeding quite strongly now, "Fuck off to hell where you belong, you sick bastard!"  
  
I kick out, but he avoids my food and smiles a cruel, nasty smile that I won't forget for as long as I live.  
  
"If that's what you want, lover," he whispers and grins, "Until we meet again, then."  
  
And he's gone. I drop the stake and it clatters to the floor with a wooden and yet hollow sound. I stare at the puddle of vomit I made on the floor, then slowly at my doorstep ask me how the hell I landed myself in this situation. 


	14. 13 Song Without a Name

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 13 - Song Without a Name  
  
*If not for her enhanced slayer hearing, Buffy wouldn't have heard the quiet opening of the apartment door. She took off the headphones supplying her with loud heavy metal music and called through the closed door, "Mom? Is that you?"  
  
"Yeah," came the slurred response.  
  
Buffy put on the headphones again, then thought about it and rose from her bed, switching off the discman. She opened the door and was greeted by the heavy stench of alcohol coming from her mother. She crinkled her nose; in this case she regretted her heightened senses.  
  
"Been drinking again?"  
  
"I-," Joyce's legs gave up and she staggered; Buffy caught her in time to prevent her from crashing to the floor.  
  
"That's a yes for me. Come on, let's get you into bed."  
  
Her mother didn't protest and Buffy, feeling patient and gentle for once, undressed her and tucked her into bed. She switched off the light and was just about to leave the room as Joyce's voice held her back.  
  
"Buffy? I'm."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She didn't turn around.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Good night."*  
  
~~~  
  
I didn't let myself think about it very long; if my screaming had attracted attention, then I'd better get the hell out of dodge before someone saw my room- and the. corpses on the bed that Angel so charmingly left me. Angel, or his psycho doppelganger; the very slim hope that this all is a terrible, terrible nightmare that I'll wake up from in a few minutes was all that kept me going as I entered that room, grabbed my bag and threw everything in it without looking at my- no, that bed. It wasn't ever mine.  
  
So, hoping that the SunnyD police department would turn a blind eye to a couple with broken necks just as it turns a blind eyes to about every corpse who's sucked empty, I spent the night hiding out in an empty mausoleum. And that's where I still am, a week later; in a goddamn mausoleum in the middle of a cemetery. Pretty fucked up place for a slayer to bunk, but at least I won't miss anything important, like new vamps or demons.  
  
I haven't been to work since that. incident, have probably been fired by now anyway, and I try to tell myself that I'm not hiding from him- from my lover. Angel. There's still a large part of me that tries to convince the other, more realistic me-part that Angel was just pretending, that he was making fun or something. that perhaps he was on drugs and didn't know what he was doing- or that it was me who was high and drugged up to the ears and had hallucinations.  
  
Yeah.  
  
The realistic me-part can only laugh weakly at all that crap and point out that the only explanation is that Angel was a raving fruitcake all along and just waiting for the opportunity to let out his demon and play a little. Which sounds logical 'cause he's a vampire after all and isn't killing people the main part of the job description? And Angel told me some stuff, what he did back in the good days and if only half of it was true then I'm lucky he didn't eat me when I was puking my guts out.  
  
So it was all a lie. Everything just a lie, a bit fat one.  
  
Lying on my back on the cold stone floor, I listen to the same CD on my discman for the fifth time without really listening to it. It's better than silence anyway.  
  
"A lie," I whisper.  
  
How can that be? He is, he was Angel- he helped Faith long before I showed up, he told me that he lived on a rat diet for the better part of a century- was that all a lie? But Giles with his experience and Faith with her slayer-sense didn't notice anything; I didn't notice anything. I looked into his eyes and there was a soul there, I swear it.  
  
The next song begins, its hard beat causing me to wince and shut the thing off. I sit up slowly and throw the discman in my bag. It's already night outside and pitch black, just as the night when Angel and I made love. I sigh and push the door open. Night-time means not only patrol now, but also breaking into Sunnydale High after that 'cause although my current place has a nice sarcophagus made of solid stone it lacks a shower. And a mirror.  
  
I'm reminded of Thomas' disapproving tone when he told me that stealing and especially breaking into buildings is wrong and I tell myself that my life's already so screwed up now- I live in a cemetery, for God's sake- that morals kind of have lost their priority. I don't dare to sign in at another motel, in case that SunnyD's policemen don't spend all of their time eating donuts- a trip to jail is at the very bottom of my To-Do-List. As is a trial for murder, even if I'm definitely not guilty.  
  
I make my rounds and silently count the vampires I stake. I don't tease them anymore, don't play with them, just dust them as quickly as possible. Patrol's lost its fun and every kick it once had for me and I half- heartedly curse Angel for spoiling my slaying. I've done three cemeteries so far, and killed ten vampires and that's a very, very bad thing 'cause normally there's perhaps three or four. Someone is a very busy vampire and I don't want to know who it is, although I do- I'm almost certain. That 'almost' is my hope, my hope that it's all an amazing coincidence. yeah, right.  
  
Those vamps could just as well have 'Made by Angel' stamped on their ridged- y foreheads.  
  
I'm nervous when I finish patrol for the night; I've only staked his fledglings so far, but what if I meet Angel? He's just as strong as I am, and if we fight. and I mean, I don't know for sure if it was him who killed all those people, though the couple in my room, he told me he killed them and that's a Teflon-coated reason for staking him.  
  
I'm getting a headache with all this thinking, I swear; it's just so damn complicated. Seems that the only thing I can do is to do my patrols, hide like the coward that I am and hope to never see Angel again.  
  
I cross the empty street quickly and enter the dark school grounds. Breaking into the school is easy; those buildings aren't really made for keeping people out, more like keeping them in. Some nights I even use the unlocked front door- those are the nights when Giles apparently works late. Lucky me.  
  
It's crossed my mind to swallow my over-bloated pride and go to them- the Scooby Gang, for help. I mean, they've known Angel for ages and they've got that whole research vibe going on- I'm pretty sure that they could help.  
  
But every time I've made up my mind I can see Giles standing in his library jabbering about a new phase of training and I hear Faith's voice telling Angel that I'm not good for him and that quenches any desire I might have had to crawl to them begging for help.  
  
No, I can clean up this mess just fine on my own, thank you very much. I'm strong, I'm a slayer and the next time I see Angel I'm gonna ram a stake into his undead heart with a smile on my face.  
  
~~~  
  
The days kind of blend in for me now; one is exactly like the other; sleeping the day away in my cozy crypt, I feel that I fit right in here, in between the dead. Yeah, I'm a moving corpse, just different from the vamps I kill 'cause I got the blood actually running through my veins and not just sort of sloshing around.  
  
At night, I patrol through my share of SunnyD's cemeteries until no newbies are left, then I tend to my personal hygiene for the day and spend some of my rapidly getting tight money on something to eat; no matter what, it all tastes like cardboard anyway. After that, I crawl into my temporary home and the cycle begins a-new.  
  
What a laugh.  
  
I've asked myself why I don't just leave; can't be that difficult, can it? Grab my bag, forget about the customary longing last glance over my shoulder and keep walking until I reach. I don't know what. A new city. A new place with cemeteries and dead people with two little holes in their necks. Sounds great, doesn't it?  
  
But I stay, although I don't know why, as if waiting for something, waiting for fate to lift the veil and reveal the grand destiny that's surely in store for me.  
  
One day follows another. one, two, three, four and the count goes on until the night I meet Faith leaning against the closed gate to Restfield Cemetery.  
  
"Hi," she says as if we've just seen each other yesterday and phoned five times in the meantime.  
  
"Hi sis'," I reply and push the gates open; here I come and may all ye lesser beings bow down before I kick your ass.  
  
I don't say anything else; neither does Faith until the silence becomes too uncomfortable for her and she says with a quick glance at me and my outfit, "You look like shit."  
  
I shrug; don't need her to tell me that, "You don't say."  
  
I sound tired, even to my own ears, I want her to go, I want to be left alone and kill vampires in peace and forget about the one I slept with.  
  
Faith sighs and rakes her fingers through her hair; it's a mess, I notice, and even the make-up can't hide the bags under her eyes. Her looks don't do the "shit" description quite yet, although she's going there fast. Yeah, I imagine that the last weeks have been busy ones for her, too- and she's got school and friends and family on top of slaying.  
  
"Can you guess why I'm here?"  
  
I shrug again, "I could. 'm not in the mood, though and I'm sure you'll tell me," I smile mirthlessly, "You'd hate if this trip was in vain, no?"  
  
"When have you last seen Angel?"  
  
Faith saying that -*his* -name freezes my heart; I can't help it, even if I knew what was coming. I swallow because my mouth's dry like I ate a bucket full of sawdust but it doesn't help.  
  
"What business is it of yours?" I retort harshly and wince at my raspy voice and the funky words. I don't sound like Buffy at all.  
  
Faith grabs my arm, forcing me to stop and glares at me.  
  
"It's my business," she growls, "When Angel's suddenly gone and his apartment's empty, and two persons are found dead in your own room and Jenny's uncle is murdered! It's my business when there's suddenly more vamps than ever in Sunnydale and Willy's so frightened of their new master that he won't speak, even with a broken nose! It's my damn business when the mayor's got a new ally and destroys Sunnydale!" she hisses now, "So don't you dare to play your games with me 'cause I'm running out of patience!"  
  
Huh? I lost her about four sentences back. I open my mouth but close it again- like a fish gasping for breath- and shrug. Seems that's all I do tonight, giving my shoulders a work-out.  
  
"I don't play games with you," I say softly and look everywhere but at Faith's face.  
  
Her anger seems to vanish suddenly because she lets go of my arms and snorts, "Not at all," but she sounds as tired as I do and I'm thinking about how weird this all is. Here we are, both seventeen, not bad-looking and in full possession of our mental facilities and instead of dancing and kissing the night away at the Bronze we're standing between gravestones and argue about dead and undead people. If there's a God he must be laughing his butt off right now.  
  
"Look, sis'," I say, "Care to explain that whole speech in detail?"  
  
Faith nods, "Yes. But you're coming with me to the library first."  
  
"No way, I-"  
  
But she interrupts me with a glare that could fry eggs with its heat and I don't mean in the I-want-to-have-sex-with-you-right-now sense.  
  
"You're coming with me," she repeats and what choice do I have but to follow her to that damn library?  
  
~~~  
  
We walk to the school in silence, Faith and me. She walks fast and ignores me completely and I wonder if I should be insulted and decide then that I don't really care. After all, what have we to talk about? Compare notes and share experiences on how many creepy-crawlies we've killed this week? I don't think so. I could ask her if she's found a new boyfriend yet. Heh.  
  
I can't help but be curious about what happens now. No doubt that everybody'll be there, even Cordelia, though her only job consists of looking alternatively bored and sending out glares saying, "You idiots will all get yourselves killed anyway." Next to Xander, she's my favorite comic relief; that two would make a pair.  
  
But distracting myself with icky thoughts of Faith's ex boy-toy and the resident drama queen making out in a closet doesn't work any longer when Faith opens the door to the library and I see that they're really all there. Even the werewolf, though he's got no purpose I can see either. I wonder if he and the teenage witch have made up.  
  
"Ah, Faith," Giles says, looking relieved, "You've found her, then."  
  
"Obviously," I say and cross my arms, "So, what's the what?"  
  
"We've had Faith search for you because situation that arose concerning Angel."  
  
"Dead Boy's gone psycho," Xander mutters and Faith smacks him on the arm; he glares at her.  
  
Giles continues, ignoring both of them," We wanted to ask you when you've last seen Angel and if he acted normal then."  
  
I raise an eyebrow and do my best not to look overly interested.  
  
"Normal for Angel, that is," clarifies the woman sitting next to the Watch- Man; Jenny's her name, I think, haven't seen her around too often. His lady love, Xander's said. I hastily shove the mental images of *that* relationship in a far and dusty corner of my mind.  
  
"Why's this so important?" I ask and plop down on the last free chair next to Faith.  
  
"Because, as you've surely noticed, Angel has disappeared-"  
  
Xander snorts, "Well, but he did leave us some parting gifts. I, for one, found those just about spiffy."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You don't know?" Willow asks me, her eyes wide. She's one that got the innocent-wide-eyes-little-girl-part down dead.  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"I think we have to start at the beginning," Giles says and takes off his glasses. Despite of the crappy situation I'm in I got to suppress a giggle as he begins to clean them with a handkerchief. Wonder what he'll do when you steal all of those. Use his shirt, perhaps?  
  
He clears his throat, "A few weeks ago, not long after your own disappearance actually, Faith came to check on Angel and found his apartment devoid of any of his belongings. Naturally she was concerned and searched for him; when she came by your room, uh, well."  
  
"They said there'd been a murder in your room," Faith interrupts, "A man and a woman, naked, with their necks broken. That's not normal, not even for our standards."  
  
I lower my head, thinking back to that particular evening, to my panic and terror.  
  
"Anyway," Giles says, "We were concerned. We didn't know where you had disappeared to and although we attempted to find you, the search proved futile. And with Angel gone, too."  
  
"What the G-Man is trying to say is that we all sacrificed our nights to go through Sunnydale with a fine comb, Spaceballs-style. Plus the sewers," Xander shudders.  
  
"Well, and then." Giles trails off, looks at Jenny and swallows. He lays his hand over hers and squeezes softly.  
  
"Jenny's uncle was found dead in his hotel room, slaughtered. That was quite a clear message."  
  
"Why?" I ask, "Why her uncle, of all people? An how do you guys know that this has got something to do with Angel?"  
  
"I'll come to that in a moment. A-after that night, the numbers of newly made vampires have increased drastically, as you've been sure to notice. There's, there's talk in the demon world of a new master, more powerful than any of his predecessors bar the master."  
  
"And my goldfish are dead!" Willow blurts out suddenly. I give her a look that clearly seems to say "You're nuts" in capital neon letters 'cause she says defensively, "Well, they are! And, and it's not normal when you receive your dead pets in an envelope unless one happens to be in some sort of pet-slaughtering sect or something!"  
  
"What a loss," I mutter and roll my eyes.  
  
"What we think is that Angel is indeed this new master," Giles finishes.  
  
I try to laugh but it comes out more like a croak. This all is hitting too close to home, it confirms my suspicions and something ice cold settles into my stomach, "Angel, the new master vampire? But he's one of the white hats, last time I checked."  
  
Faith smiles grimly, "You missed the last memo. Angel has lost his soul."  
  
For a moment there's complete silence and my hearing picks up a car passing on the street next to the school. I lick my lips and begin to play with the hem of my too baggy shirt.  
  
"He's lost his soul?" I say and Giles nods, "But a soul's not a set of keys! You can't just misplace it or something! I mean, it's all glued to your body, immortal and all that crap!"  
  
"Not in Angel's case," Jenny says softly and buries her face in her hands.  
  
"What?" I stare at her.  
  
"You see." Giles looks at his girlfriend? lover?, "You know that Angel was cursed with a soul a hundred years ago?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"By gipsy tribe?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"I belong to that tripe," Jenny says, sounding muffled through her hands. She lifts her head and leans it on Giles's shoulder. He seems a bit uncomfortable at this sudden PDA but begins to stroke her back comfortingly. I remember when Angel did this for me, after throwing up, after discovering those bodies and how cool and wonderfully dry his hands felt on my clammy skin. I swallow and shudder. I don't want to think about this.  
  
"I. was sent by my tribe to keep tabs on Angel. To see that he suffered fro what he did to my tribe. You see, to my people. revenge's a living, breathing thing," she sounds as if she recites that from memory, "It's not justice and it's not fair. And Angel suffered for his deeds and the memories haunted him every day. Everyone could see that. So his soul was safe," she tries to laugh but it sounds more like a sob.  
  
I look at Jenny's drawn and pale face, at the rings under her eyes and wonder when she's gotten her last night of good sleep.  
  
"There was a- a clause in the curse. If Angel ever had a moment of true happiness, just moment, and forgot his sins, he'd lose his soul and revert back to his former, evil self- Angelus," her breath hitches and Oz discreetly slips a Kleenex into her hands.  
  
I say nothing. I'm to. it's too much to take in, too much of everything and their faces are serious and pale and they all look so tired and exhausted that there's no chance that this whole scenario is some sick-o joke thought of during a boring history lesson. No, this is the real world.  
  
"And your uncle." I say softly.  
  
"He came to warn her about Angel, said that he was getting too happy, y'know, with you around," Faith explains, "And Angel." she sighs, "I, uh, I came to speak to him about you. Told him that I didn't think you were good enough for him, that sort of thing a concerned mom tells her kid- but I just did it 'cause Jenny told me and I thought if I could keep you two apart, then he'd never be completely happy. And then you were gone and Angel just about went crazy and didn't listen to me anymore and I told him there was someone important he should see and I gave him the address but he forgot.. and then her uncle was dead. Angel had seen him after all. Dammit," she hisses and stands up to pace around.  
  
Perhaps she's feeling like I am, trapped.  
  
"And there's nothing you can do?" I ask in a small voice that doesn't sound like me at all.  
  
Jenny just shakes her head.  
  
Willow pipes up, "There has to be a counter curse. or, more like the original curse and that might help, but it could take months until we find it."  
  
And until then.  
  
"And that means one more crazy vamp at our hands, with the exception that this one's got a brain and is not afraid to use it," Xander says, "You see, I always had that tingly feeling that we should have staked him when we met him."  
  
"Don't say that!" Faith screams at him and everybody flinches, "How dare you say that, Angel was our friend! He saved your sorry ass more times that you can count!"  
  
Embarrassed silence. Eventually Xander mutters, "I think I need some fresh air. clear my head or something," and stands up and leaves.  
  
Cordelia, who hasn't said a word since I entered, looks demonstratively at her watch and gets up, too, "Well, that looks like my cue. I'm so sorry to leave you to your fun," she doesn't sound sorry at all, the stupid bitch, "But some people have got social life. Don't be afraid to call me when you've found a spell to revoke that invitation into my car."  
  
Her high-heeled shoes click on the floor as she leaves.  
  
I look down at my hands, not wanting to see the faces around me. A moment of true happiness. It's my fault, my mind registers sluggishly. The thought slowly bubbles up- It's my fault, my fault, my fault-  
  
I made love to him.  
  
I made love to Angel and fucked up though I am, I can see love when it's there. And I can see happiness. And Angel was happy when he was with me. Completely happy, it seems.  
  
Giles pinches the bridge of his nose.  
  
I slowly stand up. The cold stone that's apparently been dropped into my stomach seems to get bigger and I think back to the hamburger that I've eaten at the Doublemeat Palace this morning. Perhaps there was something wrong with the meat.  
  
"I." I seem to choke and I can't find my usual brass self; but a man's dead and I can't lie and I can't put on a brave front and pretend nothing's happened while I shoot off smart-ass comments.  
  
"Angel found me three days after I skipped town for a while, I'd just returned. He confronted me about it and we fought and made up. We went to my motel room. We made love," I sound like a machine, like something made of metal and screws and little shiny chips, "When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He came back just as I'd found. and he first comforted me, then teased me."  
  
That's the right word. Teased. Sounds like some small jokes, like. I feel like I can't hold myself up anymore. I feel like I'm falling and crashing to the floor. Help me. Oh please, help me.  
  
"I realized something was wrong. I screamed at him. He went away. I haven't had any contact with him since that night."  
  
The cold's creeping into my whole body now, traveling down my arms and legs and reaching my fingertips and toes at the same time. Giles stands up as if to catch me from falling and I hold out my hands as if to defend myself.  
  
"I'm. sorry."  
  
And with that said, I turn around and flee. I don't stop running until I've reached the rest room and there I take one fleeting look at my ghostly pale face in the mirror before my legs give out under me and I throw up everything I've eaten today. 


	15. 14 We Will Meet Again

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 14 - We Will Meet Again  
  
*She woke up with the feeling that her head was going to burst. Buffy almost fell out of her bed and groaned as the sun shone mercilessly into her sensitive eyes. Getting up very, very slowly, she padded to the bathroom and yelped as she hit her foot on the doorframe.  
  
Reaching the bathroom without further accidents, she began to spill cold water on her face and drank some of it to get rid of the disgusting taste in her mouth. It was the taste of a wild party lasting a whole night until the sky was blue, of kissing strange guys she'd never see again, of drinking too much booze and finally being so drunk that she couldn't see straight anymore.  
  
Buffy groaned and her eyes got caught in the mirror. She was pale, almost unnaturally so; her tanned skin was now an ashen gray. Two large, bloodshot eyes blinked at her and for the split of a second she saw her mother reflected back at her, Joyce after a night of partying, having one hell of a hangover.  
  
She was like her mother.  
  
Shaking her head frantically, which only caused more pain, she stepped back quickly, but Joyce still smiled drunkenly, her image becoming more and more blurred, until Buffy could see her own face.  
  
She was like her mother.  
  
With a cry of fury she flung herself at the mirror and drove her fist into it, breaking it into a thousand pieces.*  
  
~~~  
  
Today's my birthday.  
  
I idly think about all the other birthdays I can remember and try to decide with was the best one. This one doesn't even enter in the competition although the day's barely started yet. Probably the one when Thomas took me to the zoo. The ones after that weren't bad either, it's just that this was the first one with him, it was special 'cause I didn't think he'd even know when my birthday was, let alone give me a present or something.  
  
I slowly eat a piece of the chocolate cake that's sitting before me, close my eyes and let it lie on my tongue for a while. It tastes sweet, but not too much. There's little chips in it and I suck on them before I begin to chew. Looking out of the window, I see that dawn's hardly begun; it's still night outside. I take a sip of my coffee and shake my head when the waitress asks if I want to have a refill. One cup is enough or else I'll be seen crawling up the walls.  
  
Breakfast today is my present to myself; a piece of cake and a cup of coffee. I've barely ten bucks left and I try not to think about what I'll do when everything's gone. I'll never find another job here, I mean, I even managed to get myself fired from that dump I worked in and that was like, the rock bottom of all working places.  
  
Actually, I try not to think at all, but I've found out that's impossible.  
  
And so I think. About Thomas. About LA. Sometimes about my mother. And always, always about Angel. He's always there.  
  
Angel, the vampire. Angel, my boyfriend. Angel, the killer. Angel with his soul and without it, his smiles and his smirk and the way he stroked my back when I was kneeling on the floor. Angel and his eyes that were beautiful and the way they glittered in the dark. Angel and his cold hands that held me as if I was made out of porcelain, as if I was precious.  
  
Angel, I miss you.  
  
I push the empty plate away from me and get up. I still can't wrap my mind around the thought that Angel's lost to me- probably forever. That there's a demon in his body now, that he walks like him and talks like him and looks like him but that he is not Angel; he never was and he never will be. He's a monster. A killer. He's dangerous and a vampire and I'm a slayer and supposed to kill him until we come up with a better plan.  
  
I walk down empty streets and watch the world around me. The sky above my head seems to loom over me; it slowly turns gray and the blackness that seems to be in all corners slowly fades away.  
  
I'm tired and glad as I reach "my" cemetery. Last year Thomas and me spent the day vegging out on his couch and watching the Star Wars Trilogy for what must have been the fifth time. He'd bought all my favorite snacks and boy, that table before us was loaded with chocolaty goodies. Xander would have died on the spot of envy.  
  
I smile a little at that memory and my face hurts as I do so. Everything seems to hurt now, every little thing, every little move I make hurts in my bones and my flesh and my sin; all's full of pain and sometimes I think why I even bother to get up in the evening. It's not as if somebody cares anyway and I could just lie there and stare at the stone ceiling until I fall asleep again.  
  
The small rational part of me that's left snipes at me in a snotty voice that all my rambling sounds pretty suicidal and that having a death wish is not a good thing for a slayer to have. Be careful what you wish for and all that crap. Ask me if I care.  
  
Thomas is gone and Angel is gone and although the sun peeks over the horizon and basks everything in light, I've never been so cold in my life.  
  
~~~  
  
I wake up late in the afternoon and blink to chase away the dizziness. I want to check in with Giles; not that I'm keen to see him or anything, but he seemed so. tired that night in the library. They all did. I don't like them, got no reason to after all, but I don't want to see them injured or dead.  
  
I'm glad it's still light outside and I hurry to make it to the high school before nightfall. I'm not so hot on anybody or anything attacking me right now 'cause a depressed slayer's not a good slayer and a not good slayer's almost a dead one.  
  
Giles is pouring over some musky old tomes as I enter and looks up at me. He's alone which is funny and not in the ha-ha sense, 'cause there's always someone of the Dream Team there with him, to keep him company or to help him, I got no idea. He doesn't seem surprised to see me but then again, he's British- that explains any lack of reactions.  
  
"Buffy," he says as a greeting and I nod, "Hey. Where's everybody, is there a party I don't know about?"  
  
He drops his gaze, "Faith's brother David and her mother were, uh, attacked last night."  
  
"Oh shit," I say and sit down, "Are they."  
  
"They're in hospital; David has lost rather a lot of blood, I-I'm afraid. Needless to say that Faith's been spending her day with them and Willow and Xander went directly to the hospital after school."  
  
He sighs and closes the book he's been reading. I'm silent for a moment.  
  
"Was it-?"  
  
"Yes, the attack was conducted by Angelus."  
  
I stare at the high windows and watch the growing darkness outside. Angel- Angelus attacked Faith's family. To be honest, I don't give a damn about them- her brother was a good deal too annoying and don't get me started on the mother; but they were trying to be nice to me. Angel hurt her mom and bro and hurt Faith that way better than in any direct fight.  
  
And I feel guilty, 'cause it's my fault that she's got to spend the night worrying herself sick next to some hospital bed and at the same time not being able to be out there and fight that thing that's hurt her family. It's my fault that she hasn't got a moment of free breath and that Giles is slaving his nights away reading books in wacky languages, trying to find something, anything that's useful against Angel.  
  
It's my fault 'cause I pulled that disappearing stunt and Jenny's uncle never had the chance to tell Angel about this clause in his curse. He would have known, he wouldn't have risked his soul by sleeping with me.  
  
It's one thing for me to wallow in misery and self-pity because of this shit, but I swear I never wanted to hurt other people. It's my destiny to protect them, not to screw up their lives.  
  
"Any idea where he is?" I ask.  
  
"Unfortunately, none," Giles replies, "Nobody has seen him in person since he's lost his soul, e-except for you, that is. It appears that he's lying low for the time being, so to speak."  
  
"Is he planning something?" I think out loud, "Probably."  
  
"The answer is yes."  
  
I look sharply at Giles who now gets up and heads to his office; I follow him. He begins to prepare tea and I smile at the familiar movements.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It seems that Sunnydale's mayor is, uh, well, a demon-"  
  
"Figures."  
  
"Yes, and we've thought for a while now that he might be planning something. If Angel joins him, the results could prove to be disastrous. Faith and Willow have investigated the matter and have found out that Angel has indeed proposed a deal, if you want to call it that, to Mayor Wilkins. His support in, uh, exchange for some. favors."  
  
I make a face and rake a hand through my hair, "I gotta say, I don't like the sound of that."  
  
"No," Giles agrees and takes a sip of his steaming tea.  
  
"If those two really become partners, then the situation in Sunnydale will become rather. dire."  
  
"No kidding," I mutter, "So, is there some sort of plan? Something to beat into pulp? 'Cause I'm feeling kinda useless."  
  
"Not yet. We'll let you know when there's something you can do."  
  
"Great," I say sarcastically, "I just love sitting around on my butt. One of my fav activities, it's right next on the list to getting beat up and getting killed."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
I shrug, irritated, "What for? Wasn't you who screwed Angel's soul out."  
  
He looks scandalized at my crude words and for a second I feel like a kid caught with the hands in the cookie jar. But Giles recovers and takes another sip, "It wasn't your fault, Buffy. You couldn't possibly have foreseen the consequences."  
  
"Yeah, as if that's any help. Anyway, I gotta skip now. See you later."  
  
I turn around and go, but stop when he calls out to me.  
  
"Buffy? I, uh. happy birthday."  
  
My hands clench but I don't turn around. I'm reminded of what I'd normally do on this day, if I was a good little slayer. Perhaps I'd be dead by now. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, it doesn't matter. I leave without saying a word.  
  
~~~  
  
I wander 'round the graveyards that night and hope that no vamps will attack me 'cause my reflexes have gone wonky and I move about as fast as a tortoise. Of course, I've hardly had that thought when the grass on a grave a few yards away from me is broken through and a dirty hand appears. As I can only repeat time and again: Me and my Rotten Luck. Yes, in capital letters.  
  
It's a woman- or was a woman- and her eyes shine yellow in the darkness. It's disgusting and repulsive and I bite my lips as the sweet odor of rotting corpse and coffin greet me. That mix won't make it on the top ten hit list for deodorants, that's for sure.  
  
The vampire licks her lips and leers at me; I lunge at her before she can open her mouth. Her fighting skills are even more crap than mine are, if that's possible, but what she lacks in skill she makes up with enthusiasm. My roundhouse leaves her unimpressed and in an unguarded moment she kicks at me legs and brings me to fall.  
  
Oh, damn.  
  
I land hard on my butt and try to find a stake but my only one's fallen to the ground and rolled a few inches away; too many few inches away for my hand to reach it. The vampire smiles and lets out a sort of triumphant growl before she tackles and pins my wrists above my head. I struggle against it, but her grip's like iron.  
  
"So you're the slayer," she purrs and the smell coming out of her mouth is almost enough to make me faint.  
  
"I've got a message for you, sweetie," she continues, unimpressed by my attempts to break free.  
  
"From Angel."  
  
I grit my teeth and pull up my knees with all my strength to send her flying a few feet away from me. I'm over her in an instant and as I have no other weapon, I whip out the knife from under my shirt where it always is and ram it into her outstretched hand, pinning her to the ground.  
  
I smirk as she screams in outrage and pain, but don't say anything as I quickly get up and pick up my stake. Kneeling on her chest, I look into her eyes. She suddenly goes out of game face and stares at me out of dark brown eyes.  
  
"Don't you want to hear your message first?"  
  
Smiling grimly, I yank the knife out of her hand and drive my stake home at the same moment. As she turns to dust I mutter, "Not really, no."  
  
Somebody embraces me from behind and I freeze as I hear his voice, "Well, then I'll just have to give it to you in person, don't I?"  
  
I want to move but I can't; his arms are like steel bands wrapped around me and they hold me tight. It's Angel, except it's not and I want to speak but all that comes out is a hoarse croak. Angel laughs softly.  
  
"Shush, my love," he whispers with his mouth pressed against my ear, "Shush."  
  
I begin to shiver and I want to hide it from him, but I know I can't; he's too close, kneeling directly behind me with his chest pressed against my back. I still have my knife in my hand but I can't move my arms; and anyway my hands are just sort of numb, like the rest of my body; I see them shaking. I stare at the shiny blade of my knife and at the moonlight that dances on it.  
  
"Oh, Buffy," my name sounds like a sigh, "What am I going to do?"  
  
I find my voice although it's scratchy and too high to sound threatening, "Do us all a favor and die in a ditch?"  
  
He laughs again, "Such a sharp little tongue, my lover." I can feel his voice vibrate against the skin of my neck and I flinch as his cool tongue laps gently at a spot right under my ear. He begins to pepper little kisses along the line of my neck and my knife falls out of my hand and to the ground.  
  
I don't make a sound during all of this but I can't help but gasp once Angel reaches my shoulder and bites down gently with blunt, human teeth. He lets go of my arms and I don't dare to turn around and look behind me; I don't dare to move at all.  
  
Suddenly I feel something cold and metallic on my skin and I realize that it's a necklace when Angel- Angelus, dammit!- fastens the clasp.  
  
"Happy birthday, lover," he whispers.  
  
When I finally turn around he's gone. 


	16. 15 Somewhere Else To Be

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 15 - Somewhere Else To Be  
  
*Buffy spotted Mark standing before the school talking to his friends. She sneaked up on him and slung her arms around his waist.  
  
"Surprise!"  
  
He flinched and sounded irritated, "Geez, Buff, you scared the hell out of me!"  
  
"Sorry," she pouted, her good mood still holding on. She'd passed her latest English test well enough not to flunk the subject, thanks to Thomas' help and now she wanted some coddling time with her boyfriend. Mark and her had been together for two weeks and he was a genuinely nice guy. He didn't get drunk every day, hadn't been threatened to be kicked out of school yet and he even lived with both of his parents.  
  
"Buff, we need to talk."  
  
"Okay. What about?" she asked and snapped her gum.  
  
"Not here," he said and led her to a more quiet spot behind the school building.  
  
"So, what's the what?"  
  
Mark fidgeted under her curious gaze and sighed, "I don't think this is working out."  
  
"What?" Buffy demanded, not sure that she understood. This sounded almost like in the movies, right before the boyfriend/girlfriend breaking up part.  
  
"This thing between us. You're- don't get me wrong, I really like you, but it's just- I don't get you. You're so closed off most of the time and zoned out and I feel that I can't reach you-"  
  
"Well, sorry if I didn't spill all details of my personal life during our first date! Ever heard of privacy?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Buff. I-"  
  
"Get lost, Mark," she hissed, suddenly mad, "Now."  
  
He didn't even try to argue with her, but just turned around and left. Buffy stared after him before she whirled around and kicked the wall of the school building with all her strength.  
  
"Shit!"*  
  
~~~  
  
My neck hurts.  
  
Thomas approaches me with a gentle smile and I smile back; I glance around me and see that we're in that burned down warehouse again. Huh. Thought we left that ages ago.  
  
His cool fingers touch my throat and he makes a disapproving sound in the back of his throat.  
  
"My, my," he whispers, "What have you got yourself into, Buffy?"  
  
I shrug 'cause I can't really remember; there's music playing, far away, and I recognize the song as one that I sang myself a long time ago on stage.  
  
"Fate," another voice says softly and Angel steps out of the shadows. I gasp at the sight of him; he's in vamp face and the front of his crisp white shirt is soaked with dark, red blood.  
  
"Ah," Thomas hums and then smiles.  
  
There's something around my neck now, something heavy and it's dragging me down, down, down. the music gets louder and my hands fly to my neck as I try to tear the thing off that's around it, but I can't move it, it's too heavy. There's another sound and as I look up I see that Thomas has morphed; his yellow eyes seem to be glowing with amusement as his cool fingers play with the heart-shaped pendant that's hanging on the necklace. It doesn't seem too heavy for him. I can't breathe and make a wheezing sound.  
  
Angel steps nearer and leaves a trail of blood behind him. He smirks and reveals the sharp teeth of a vampire.  
  
"Hush now, lover."  
  
I scream as I wake up.  
  
~~~  
  
My throat is hoarse and I sit up with a gasp. The dream is still fresh on my mind and I shudder as I remember Thomas's yellow eyes and the vivid red of that blood on Angel's shirt. I glance at the small barred window of the crypt; the sun's already set and it's almost night.  
  
Something is going to happen tonight. I know it.  
  
I stand up, shove my discman into my rucksack and fold the blanket I've been sleeping on. Then I change my clothes and put on black pants and a black shirt; as I pull it over my head, my hands touch something metallic and cold and I hesitate.  
  
Then, undoing the clasp, I take off the necklace Angelus gave me a week before and look at it in the dim light. It's made entirely out of silver -real silver, not some cheap crap with paint on it- and the pendant is a heart that now glitters as I turn it in my hands. On the backside, there's four letters engraved: "Mine". Nothing else.  
  
It gives me the creeps.  
  
If Angel had given something like that to me, I'd been bouncing off the walls with happiness because it's such a boyfriend-ly thing to give- but I get the wiggins from Angelus' idea of this as a birthday present. For me it seems like a promise that he'll kill me personally or something like that. That he's only waiting for the right time- because he could have offed me in that cemetery and all I would've is watch and perhaps wiggle a little when he'd bite my neck. When the right time is, I've got no clue. God knows what goes on in his sick little twisted mind.  
  
I sigh and shove the necklace into my pocket. I'm not going to throw it away, it's too valuable for that, but I'll be damned if I wear it like I'm his lap dog or something.  
  
I tie my hair into a pony tail, look around to see if I've forgotten something, then put the bag in a corner to be fetched surely later. Then I sit down on the sarcophagus and wait patiently until Willow and Oz come running into the crypt, telling me to come with them. 


	17. 16 Flames

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 16 - Flames  
  
*Buffy seriously considered just turning around and leaving before Thomas had the chance to open the door. She'd actually taken a few steps in direction of the staircase when the key rattled in the lock and the sleepy face of her watcher appeared.  
  
"Buffy? What is it?" he mumbled, "What time is it?"  
  
"Too late to disturb you. Sorry. I- I'll just go now and you go back to sleep and-"  
  
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Thomas exclaimed, taking in her messy appearance. Buffy's skirt and pants were torn in several places and stained by mud and blood, as was her face. Not to mention the fact that she was carrying a large duffel bag over her shoulder.  
  
Buffy hesitated, "You see, there was this demon- what was his name again, bagel or something."  
  
"Cagel."  
  
"Anyway, he was rather grouchy when I wanted to kill him. Hence the ruining my clothes before I chopped him to pieces."  
  
"Didn't I tell you to wait until the new moon? That's when they're at their weakest and easy to kill. I even remember specifically telling you not to search it out."  
  
"Yeah. It's dead now, so who cares? The bad part is that my mother saw me sneaking in through the window. She was drunk and, to make a short story even shorter, kicked me out. Complete with curses what'll happen if I even step under her eyes again. So I kinda need a place to crash, just for the night and as I'm not Miss Popular and the bridge looking rather uncomfy."  
  
Thomas held the door wide open and took the bag out of Buffy's hand. He smiled.  
  
"You can stay as long as you want to."*  
  
~~~  
  
We're not driving in the direction of their school and I look around me and ask them where we're going.  
  
Oz looks shortly at me, then back on the street, "To Giles's house."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because the library's not usable anymore."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, Buffy." Willow says hesitantly, "You see, there's been, like this huge attack of vamps at the library and there was a lot of torching and burning stuff down and now it's closed down. Snyder threw a fit. There's not a lot to save in there anymore. Poor Giles almost had a nervous breakdown. We think he's rubbed his glasses clear through now."  
  
"That's."  
  
"Bad," Oz supplies the word for me.  
  
I nod, "Is anyone hurt?"  
  
"Giles has a few burns and Cordelia says the psychological damage done to her is irreparable 'cause her make-up bag was burned," Willow says, "But. Buffy, Faith's brother is dead."  
  
"What!" I stare at her, open-mouthed. My hearing's gone wonky, that must be it. Post-traumatic stress disorder or something like that. Although the trauma's still kind of going on, but I can't have heard right, 'cause she said.  
  
"Yes," she whispers.  
  
"B-but how? When I asked Giles he said that they were in hospital, but not. they weren't dying! I mean, he's a kid, they're strong and much too stubborn to die!"  
  
Oz shakes his head, "He was too weak. He got beat up by the vamps because he tried to defend his mom, but he hasn't got any special powers like Faith- and he's lost too much blood, the doctor's said."  
  
I close my eyes, lean back in my seat and sigh.  
  
The rest of the ride is spent in silence and I'm glad as Oz stops his van before a house that must be Giles's and I hastily get out and take a deep breath.  
  
This is a nightmare. Faith's bro- dead. Dead. And Angel killed him; he was responsible for this; he's responsible for ripping us all apart and I bet he does it with a smile on his face.  
  
Cold fury fills me; I could understand if he'd have fun torturing me but so far he hasn't laid a hand on me, at least not in a way that would really harm me. But he killed Jenny's uncle and he killed Faith's brother and, as Willow would point out, he killed her goldfish. He's playing with us all and it's probably his idea of fun.  
  
Fuck you, Angel, this has gone too far. I'll get you and if it's the last thing I do in this miserable world. I ball my hands into fist and follow Oz and Willow inside.  
  
They're all perched around the couch table, which is buried under books; some of them are singed or half-burned, I see. My gaze flies to Faith and she looks like. well, if hell had a face, hers would be it. Her hair's tousled like a rat slept in there and her eyes seem huge and like black pits; there's rings under them, of course, and her whole face is pale, a sickly white color. Her lips are dry and cracked and I wonder if there's any blood left in them.  
  
Jenny, with her head on Giles's shoulder again speaks without greeting, "We've found the curse that will Angel give back his soul."  
  
"Oh," I whisper and unclench my hands. Whatever I expected when Willow and Oz came into my crypt, this wasn't it. I'd thought more along the lines of "The world's about to end, want to join the party?".  
  
"B-buffy, we, um, need Faith and you to provide a distraction for Angel," Giles looks at me seriously and for a bizarre moment his manner and voice remind me so much of Thomas that I must be gaping at him. This is so like the night before I fought Lothos, before this whole disaster began; I swallow forcefully and fumble in my pockets for a gum. I gotta have one left.  
  
"We think it's better if he's occupied while Jenny and Willow curse him," Faith says and her voice sounds so hollow that I want to shake her and scream at her to snap out of it. That's not my sister slayer, that's a wreck, why can't the others see it? Faith doesn't need this right now, what she needs is rest and her brother; but he's never coming back and it seems that the sparkly, butt-kicking part of Faith, that part that's kept her alive has gone with him. She looks like the Faith in that first photo I saw of her and I'm scared.  
  
Scared for her and scared for myself.  
  
"Y-yes, we don't want Angel to consciously fight the curse," Giles says, "And that way you can bring him back if we are successful."  
  
The 'if' hangs in the air and it weighs heavy on my heart. 'If' seems to say that there's a lot of things that can go wrong.  
  
"How did you find it?" I croak but the real question I wanted to ask is 'Why? Why now?' Why now when I've barely gotten my act together?  
  
"Jenny found it. she contacted her tribe and then translated it," Willow explains.  
  
I nod uncertainly, "So, that's. that's all? We go have some fun with evil Angelus and then suddenly it's 'Poof!' and he's all souled up again?"  
  
"Basically, yes."  
  
A thought strikes me, "What about his memories? Will he remember all that stuff he did?"  
  
Silence. Faith looks down and presses her lips together. I got the answer. I try to unwrap the gum I found in a pocket of my pants but my hands shake so badly that I drop it. Oz picks it up for me and unwraps it slowly. I accept it, suddenly grateful that he's here.  
  
"And," I don't really want to know the answer to this either, "Will his soul be safe then? Or is the clause still there?"  
  
"Why's this so important?" Xander bursts out suddenly, "So you can get groin-y again?"  
  
"Xander!" Willow exclaims, but he looks stubborn and glares defiantly at me.  
  
"Never mind," I say, "I'll take a page out of your book, comic relief, and go get some fresh air. You coming, sis'?" I call back over my shoulder. Faith rises unsteadily, smiles a horrible fake smile at the room and follows me out of the door.  
  
I wait for her and as she closes the door behind her, ask, "Where is Angel anyway? I thought you all didn't know:"  
  
Faith shrugs, "Will found a spell that would point out the location of anybody if you have something that once belonged to him. He gave me a jacket once, so. he's staying in that big, deserted mansion at Crawford Street."  
  
I nod; I've seen it a couple of times when I patrolled nearby. Faith falls into stride beside me and so we walk through SunnyD and I have the sinking feeling that this is the last time I'll ever see her, as if she's somehow slipping away from me and I can't do anything but watch. And I don't want that 'cause for a little while at least she was family, she was my sister and best friend and now it hurts me to look at her 'cause she just seems to be a shadow of that girl I was so sure to know well.  
  
"I'm sorry about your little brother," I say softly and I wish that my voice wouldn't sound so harsh and so dishonest. It's not made for comforting words and that sentence sounds phony; I want to bite my tongue the same moment the words leave my mouth.  
  
"No, you're not," Faith snaps, "You're probably glad he's kicked the bucket. Don't pretend to be something you're not."  
  
I'm speechless for a moment; that was. harsh. I open my mouth to defend myself but she just glares at me like I'm something squishy under her shoes, "Just shut up, okay? I don't want to talk about it and even if I did, the last person on earth I'd come running to would be you."  
  
Whoa, she's feisty. And pissed off. I know that look and I know that voice; it's Faith's method of swimming in the river called Denial. I know it, 'cause it's my method, too, to lash out and hurt everybody around you. It let's you forget your own pain and you feel better if you're stomping on another person's ego than to deal with your own fucked up mess.  
  
I say nothing for a while until, "Do you think it's right?"  
  
"What's right?"  
  
"Cursing Angel again."  
  
Faith stops dead and stares at me, "Are you out of your mind? Of course it's right!"  
  
"Are you sure?" I press on, "'Cause me, I'm not. I mean," I drop my gaze, "I wouldn't want to live with the guilt. It'd be too hard, I think."  
  
"Well, Angel's not like that," my sister slayer hisses, "He's stronger than that. He wants his soul back and he'll be five by five!"  
  
"Really? Would you. I mean, would you want to live with the memory of snacking on dozens of people? Of killing them?"  
  
"That wasn't him!" Faith almost screams now and I raise my hands.  
  
"Don't tell me; tell him. I know it wasn't him, but he's gotta live with the memory of what he did. You know Angel better than I do, sis'! Do you think he'll see this as a walk in the park and go on like nothing happened? Do you think he'll do that? I'm just asking if it's fair for us to damn him to even more pain."  
  
"It's not your decision!" she really screams now, " Angel's my friend! I want to help him and you should be happy to get your boyfriend back!"  
  
"This isn't about me, this is about Angel! Do you think he can live with the guilt of killing your bro? D'you really believe that?"  
  
"Leave him out of it," Faith snarls; there's something feral in her look now and provoking her perhaps wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had.  
  
"No," I hiss back, "I want you to stop working on autopilot and start to be you again! Angel killed your brother, Faith. Little David, who played football and like to watch The Simpsons! And Angel knew him better than I did. I bet David adored him, didn't he? Like some kind of big brother-"  
  
Faith lets out a scream and before I can react, she punches me right in the face. I stumble and take a few steps back; rubbing my face I say, "Youch. Man, you have a mean punch, I gotta say."  
  
"Shut up! Shut up, do you hear me? You've no right to talk like that! It's you who started this mess and you're making it worse, it's your fault! It's your fault-" she breaks off and pants.  
  
I don't know what to do and so I just look at her; her face is a grimace of hate and pain and I wish I could this all away from her.  
  
"It's your fault," she whispers barely audible, "If you hadn't slept with Angel then he'd still be. he'd still be. I wish you'd never come to Sunnydale, Buffy."  
  
My head snaps up and I can't help but be hurt by that remark. Faith notices and smirks bitterly, "Hit a sore spot? Truth hurts. I wish you'd never come here. You should have stayed in LA, but no, instead you come here and screw it all up. Angel's life. My life. You got your watcher killed, didn't you? Seems you're good at that, destroying other people's lives."  
  
"Stop it," I say and feel myself starting to tremble. Yeah, she's mad now and probably doesn't know what she's saying, but this- this goes too far. She's wrong, she's wrong and her words hurt so much 'cause I secretly believe the same thing. Faith just pulled out all my little fears out by their hair, kicking and screaming, and speaking them out loud makes everything so much worse.  
  
"Why? I'm right, aren't I? You're just too scared to admit it. It's your fault and now you're a coward who thinks that killing her ex is better than dealing with it!"  
  
"Stop it!" I scream, "Stop it, you're nuts!"  
  
"No, I'm not," Faith murmurs and she sounds almost amused, "Seems it's you who can't deal with reality after all. Poor Buffy-"  
  
Something inside me snaps; and while Faith lets out her pent up anger with words, I'm much more one for the direct approach. So I punch her. Hard. So hard, in fact, that she almost falls, but catches herself at the last moment. She smiles, and then she bares her teeth, flings herself at me and the fight is on.  
  
Faith fights like a madman, like someone who's possessed and driven by sheer hate, not even necessarily at me. She seems to have forgotten where we are and even who I am and her eyes shine brightly in the night. We pummel each other like we're fighting for our lives, and I a way we are; Faith for the live she's lost and me for the one I never had.  
  
Attack, block, counter-attack; we're both slayers and we've trained with each other before; one is just as strong as the other. Soon I'm exhausted and sweat breaks out all over my body; but she just keeps attacking, attacking, attacking and I want her to stop and I scream her name but she doesn't listen. I'm not sure if she even hears me.  
  
I can see now that there's tears running down her cheeks and that's why her eyes shine so bright, but I notice that at the same moment I notice a chance to end this fight and so I duck and then jump and break through her defenses and hit her with all my power. There's something wet in my eyes and I blink rapidly as I see Faith lying unconscious on the ground and I realize that it's tears when I kneel down next to her and stroke her hair.  
  
My nose is running and I don't have a Kleenex 'cause I haven't cried for ages- I never cry 'cause I'm strong and I think it's written down somewhere that strong girls don't cry- and so I just sit down for a moment and let out a huge sob.  
  
"I'm sorry, sis'," I say, hiccupping, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this," and I stroke her head and she groans a little; I think she'll wake up soon with the mother of all headaches. I stand up quickly and wipe angrily at my eyes. My fingers are wet and my eyes are a bit swollen; I cried but I feel strangely better now.  
  
With a last glance at Faith's prone body, I turn around and run.  
  
~~~  
  
He's sitting in front of the cold, dark fireplace and I think he expected me somehow; the mansion's empty, no minions or anything, just him and me.  
  
He rises gracefully as he catches my sight. Gesturing to the two gleaming swords on the table, he bows before me and smiles, revealing his teeth.  
  
"Welcome, lover." 


	18. 17 I'm Dying

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 17 - I'm Dying  
  
*Thomas watched Buffy attentively while she stood on the stage and sang. She'd put up quite the fight about singing in public and in a bar full of demons to boot, but a bet was a bet and Buffy had- well- lost.  
  
He thanked the waitress for bringing his drink with a nod and jumped when somebody lay a hand on his shoulder. He looked up.  
  
"Lorne!" he snapped, "You startled me."  
  
The Host shrugged and sat down at the table with Thomas.  
  
"Quite a good singer, isn't she?" he said with a nod towards the stage.  
  
Thomas grinned, "Tell her that. I had to drag her here, kicking and screaming. She lost a bet with me," he explained at Lorne's questioning look.  
  
"Ah yes, I see." he said, distracted. Something like worry crossed his face and he hesitated a moment before he spoke, "You'll have to watch her. Protect her."  
  
"What?" Thomas asked.  
  
The Host rose and patted Buffy's watcher on the arm, "She isn't going to have it easy. Fantastic voice though."*  
  
~~~  
  
My lover of one night stands before me and smiles; I want to kill him in that moment. He's not Angel and this was never clearer to me than now; Angel could never smile like that, like I'm an especially tasty meal to be devoured, like he knows exactly that he's stronger than me, that it's just a question of time until he wins.  
  
Angel's eyes never shone with ruthlessness and cruelty.  
  
"Angelus," I spit the name out, "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you but we both know that'd be a lie. I say, let's skip the pleasantries and proceed right to the killing part of the evening, if that's alright with you."  
  
He laughs and the sound echoes in the almost empty hall around us.  
  
"Always the witty one," he smirks, "So this isn't a social call, what a pity. And here I'd hoped we could trade stories our adventures. the tale of how the Big Bad Vampire killed the slayer's annoying brother is, for example, quite riveting, don't you think?"  
  
He's a monster and I'm going to kill him and wipe that smirk off his face permanently.  
  
"Cut the crap," I take a step forward, "The faster I get rid of you, the faster I can go home and party."  
  
"Oooh, so this is how works." Angelus approaches the table and picks up the two swords; he throws one to me and I catch it out of reflex, "I thought we'd have a little duel before we proceed on to the killing. may the better one win."  
  
He attacks me then and I bring up my sword quickly to protect my body.  
  
"What's this about?" I ask, "Old-fashioned fists aren't good enough for you?"  
  
"Quite the contrary, lover," Angel parries my sword easily and it looks like he's enjoying this, the bastard, "But, as they say, variety is the spice of life. I think you'll be pretty when you bleed."  
  
Damn it, he's fast and I'm only defending myself while he attacks all the time. I'm panting after a short while 'cause I'm still aching a little from that fight with Faith and I got to admit that this stunt wasn't the smartest idea; 'two slayers against one vampire' sounds very much better than 'me alone against Angel who's had two hundred years of experience'.  
  
I barely escape the tip - the rater sharp tip - of his sword and duck. Before Angel can attack again I sweep out one leg, kicking his own legs away from him; he crashes to the ground and I'm on him in an instant.  
  
"Really, Buff," he says, "Your technique lacks a certain. finesse."  
  
With that, he uses his left arm to punch me and kick me away from him; I stagger and stars explode before my eyes. Gripping my sword, I growl. If we're going to play that way, fine. I grab a fire poker that's sitting next to the fire place with my left hand and tackle Angelus.  
  
He seems to be at least a bit unnerved by my sudden recovery 'cause I got the time to swing both weapons, one aiming at his heart and the other at his head. He gets his act together too quickly however and jumps on the low table; he's still grinning.  
  
"This is fun, lover, you're almost as good fighting as you're in the sack:"  
  
His sword meets the poker with a loud metallic clang and I can't hold it; it clatters to the floor.  
  
"Although," he continues, seemingly undisturbed by my kicking the table over he's standing on, "If you plan to make a decent living," he jumps back as I come close to him but retaliates immediately, "I'd propose the latter one," he winks at me and I'm chanting to myself not to lose it, to keep my cool.  
  
Despite that, I get slower with each passing minute as I fight against Angelus and my own body's exhaustion. Eventually I lose against both: I stumble over the poker when I step back to defend myself and Angelus uses this chance to disarm me; the sword flies out of my hand and a second later he throws away his own and grips me from behind to hold me still.  
  
I kick out and even try to bite his hand, but I'm too slow and too weak; panic fills me and I silently curse Jenny and Willow for taking so long with the damn curse; I curse Faith who had to lose it and go all psycho on me and I curse myself for being so stupid to think I could win against Angel.  
  
"You're not wearing my present, lover," Angelus murmurs, "I must confess, I'm disappointed."  
  
And with that words his sharp teeth sink into my neck and all conscious thoughts leave my mind. 


	19. 18 Free

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 18 - Free  
  
*Lying sprawled all over the couch, Buffy zapped through all the channels Thomas's TV had to offer and finally settled on a quiz show for a few minutes before switching it off completely. She sighed, stretched and fell off the couch.  
  
"Youch!" she muttered, standing up and rubbing her back. She snapped her gum loudly and went looking for her watcher; she found him in the working room - or torture chamber, as Buffy used to call it, because the room contained more books than one normal human being could possibly read - writing something.  
  
"Hey!" she greeted him, "What're you doing?"  
  
Thomas looked up and smiled distractedly, "Nothing important. You should sleep, Buffy, you need rest. Tonight's patrol was hard.  
  
"Yes, dad," she replied, "D'you think we'll take that Lothos guy out soon? 'Cause, honestly? He's getting on my nerves."  
  
"I can imagine that. Soon, Buffy, we're not quite ready yet."  
  
"Okay. So, I'm gonna crash. Night."  
  
"Good night."  
  
Buffy close the door softly and leaned against it. She bit her lip, then nodded decidedly and went to her room. No matter what Thomas might say, tomorrow she was going to hunt Lothos down and make the guy sorry that his poor excuse for a carcass had ever risen out of the grave again.*  
  
~~~  
  
It hurts; I can't describe how much it hurts; Angelus is slowly drinking my life out of me and all I feel is the physical pain that's ripping through my body. My knees buckle and I sink slowly to the floor with Angel following me, holding me, gripping me so tight around my waist that I choke.  
  
His other hand slowly travels down my throat; his fingertips dip inside my shirt and don't stop until they reach my left nipple; he pinches it and I moan out of pain because his teeth and his fingers do nothing but hurt me.  
  
My view grows dim and I'm getting even more tired; must be the blood loss and that's probably to blame for the music that's playing somewhere far away, too. I gasp and it sounds like a sob; the music gets louder until it covers the slurping sounds Angel makes, until I realize that it's playing just in my head. A picture of Thomas appears in my mind, smiling at me and then pointing at my belly, saying, "Whatever do you need that thing for?"  
  
My eyes suddenly snap open and the veil on my mind lifts a little. I slowly move my hands, praying that Angelus won't notice but he doesn't 'cause both his hands are caressing my breasts now and my own hands creep under my shirt until they encounter the solid blade, warmed by my body.  
  
This seems to wake me up completely from my daze and I pull together every bit of strength I've got left, take out the knife and twist my body so quickly that Angel loses his balance and his teeth and hands are ripped away from my body; I don't hesitate, plunge my knife deeply into his heart and twist.  
  
Everything's silent for a moment until Angelus licks his blood stained lips and makes a smacking sound.  
  
"This won't kill me," he wheezes and I jerk the knife out and ram it into his belly; he groans loudly and shudders.  
  
"I know," I say quietly, "But it'll hurt like hell."  
  
So this is how it ends; blood which is not his own slowly starts to stain his shirt and turns it red and I notice that its original color is such a very, very white that it seems almost translucent; I curl my lips 'cause I'm feeling sick now. Sick and weak and I want to sleep so badly.  
  
It ends now, though; nothing of this re-souling crap. I'll drive a stake into Angel's bleeding heart and I'll watch his ashes until I fall asleep and perhaps we can meet in my dreams without all the guilt and pain.  
  
I take out the stake that I tucked into my boot after last night's patrol and feel the cool wood in my hand. And I say all the silent good-byes as I raise it and I feel a part of myself preparing to die with him when his eyes snap open and he screams. His eyes glow for a moment, they glow yellow, amber and golden and I think that this is what a soul looks like.  
  
And then he screams again and I cradle his head in my arms and wait until he weakly asks, "Buffy? What happened?"  
  
I kiss his forehead and manage to smile, "I'll explain later. Sleep, Angel."  
  
His eyes flutter closed as he faints.  
  
It's over.  
  
~~~  
  
How I make it back to Giles's house I'll never remember; but I do, with Angel slung over my shoulder and I'm glad I don't remember because I know that as I reach my destination I'm so weak that I can hardly hold myself on my feet and dawn's near and there's dried tear tracks on my cheeks. I cried again and my eyes just hurt so much.  
  
I knock and fall on my knees just as Giles opens the door; he catches Angel and exclaims, "Buffy!"  
  
I look up at him blearily, "Hey, Watch-Man."  
  
Giles calls Xander and Oz who carry Angel inside and I just bring myself into a sitting position and lean my head on the door frame.  
  
"Buffy, are you alright?" he asks me and I nod.  
  
"Can you just get me. some water and. an aspirin?" I manage to say and he disappears quickly. I close my eyes and I'm glad that my pony tail opened 'cause now my hair covers my neck and the bite mark on it.  
  
It's over, I tell myself; I won.  
  
Giles returns with a glass of water and some pills , and I gulp them down all at once and cough.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Do come in, Buffy, you look, um, like a walking corpse."  
  
"I am a walking corpse," I mutter and slowly get up. I wave away his hands that want to help me and stand on my own wobbly feet.  
  
"See? I'm fine, everything's peachy. Jenny and Willow can pop the corks now, the curse worked."  
  
I groan as every single one of my muscles seem to scream with pain, "Angel got a little sliced and diced though. Sorry 'bout that. How's Faith?"  
  
Giles musters me with a concerned look and I do my best not to look like I've beaten up and sucked half-dry.  
  
"Faith turned up an hour ago," he says, "She's sleeping now- her, well, her story needs some explaining which I hope you can provide- a-after you've rested, of course," he adds hastily.  
  
I wave my hand, "Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna hit the sack now. Say hi to the rest for me."  
  
I turn around and he calls after me, "B-but where are you going? You can't, in your state, it's really-"  
  
"Watch-Man," I interrupt him, "I'll be just fine on my own. Believe me."  
  
I walk away slowly form his house and out into the dawning day. 


	20. Epilogue

Author: Asrai  
  
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?  
  
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Epilogue  
  
*The bus seemed to loom before her and Buffy stopped and stared at it. Until now she'd been on autopilot; she hadn't allowed herself to think at all. But now, standing before that bus.  
  
The full impact of what had happened began slowly to sink in and as if to emphasize the point, the cut across her belly began to throb angrily. Buffy winced and took a step forward, then another.  
  
She could do this, she told herself. She was strong. She'd build herself a new life and forget about the blood and the pain of the old one.  
  
She was strong.  
  
Buffy glared defiantly and entered the bus that would bring her to Sunnydale.*  
  
~~~  
  
I wiggle in my seat to get in a more comfortable position and lean my head against the cool glass of the window; the bus slowly fills with people and I look up as an elderly lady asks me if the seat next to me is taken. I shake my head and gesture for her to sit down.  
  
It's over.  
  
I fought the Good Fight and I won, but not without a price; stories like this one always go like that, I guess. In the end, the Good Guys win, but not without losing a piece of themselves in the process. I haven't said my good-byes, but that's alright, I'm not one for mushy, kleenex-requiring last hugs and kisses anyway. No, staggering dramatically into the sunrise with Giles looking after me is much more impressive, in my opinion.  
  
I'm sorry, Faith; sorry to screw up your life royally and then high-tailing my way out of it. I'm sorry, Angel; even if I love you, I can't show you or tell you that. And so I'm leaving, even if it's painful, even if it's hard 'cause staying would be so much worse. To love you, but to be unable to touch you- I couldn't stand it. Oh, sure, we'd say that it's okay and we can live without sex, but we'd be falling apart without even realizing it.  
  
It's better this way, I think.  
  
I'd send Angelus a thank-you note if I could; I pawned off that necklace and it gave me enough cash to get a bus ticket and outta here. Even if it hurt to sell it 'cause it's the only solid thing my Angel's given me.  
  
And so I'm back to square one, aren't I? Recovering from my injuries and the blood loss and so tired in my soul that all the sleep in the world can't make up for it. And only the shield the bus passes now tells me that any time has passed at all, that I loved and fought and finally cried here, and that it's the past now and I'm going to start from the beginning again:  
  
*Now leaving Sunnydale*  
  
* FIN  
  
A/N: So, well, this is it. I do hope you all enjoyed the story; I certainly enjoyed writing it, even if it took me a rather long time. There will be no sequel, I'm afraid. The title is a song by Depeche Mode, the chapter titles are taken from songs sung by VAST, all of them great.=)  
  
Bye,  
  
Asrai 


End file.
